Behind The Brick Walls
by KayLyn666
Summary: Harleigh Johnson thought that after stumbling upon the group in the forest, her life could improve greatly. That she'd no longer have to watch her back every moment of every day. She couldn't have been more wrong. To the innocent, Woodbury looked like a pleasant, ideal place to live, but for those in the Governor's inner circle, it was anything but. AU.
1. Prologue

_Summary: Harleigh Johnson thought that after stumbling upon the group in the forest, her life could improve greatly. That she'd no longer have to watch her back every moment of every day. She couldn't have been more wrong. To the innocent, Woodbury looked like a pleasant, ideal place to live, but for those in the Governor's inner circle, it was anything but. When Harleigh finally makes a break for it and finds herself at home with the prison group, she's forced to choose between the instincts and ideas she was raised on or a path much different than the one she had been previously forced to choose. _

_When a sudden friendship is formed between the her and a man she'd never have imagined, she's forced to move even farther from her comfort zone, all while breaking down the wall the man had put up to keep emotions and real feelings at bay. _

_In the end, it all comes down to survival. Some will prevail, others, will not. _

* * *

They say death is easy, that it's living that's the real tricky part. After what I've seen, after what I've had to do to survive these last few months, I couldn't agree more.

When the outbreak first hit my hometown, my family and I were prepared. Or rather, my uncle and I were. My uncle Jimmy was a doomsday prepper. He was always prepared for the end of the world. He had a bunker in his basement, three years' worth of clean water, countless boxes of dehydrated rations, and most importantly, a stock pile on weapons ranging from simple hunting knife to semi-automatic rifles.

When the news finally began to tell people to bunker down and lock their doors, I took to the road, traveling the 100 miles north to my uncle's house in southern Georgia. There, I found the one thing I had feared most. He wasn't dead, not really. Instead, he was growling and snapping, a deep bite wound in his neck. He was one of _them_.

I had grown up on horror movies and listening to my uncle go on and on about zombies, so I knew to aim for the head. Thankfully, out of habit, and out of the simple fact that I'd been hunting since I was old enough to hold a bow, I put my uncle down, burying him in the backyard next to the little oak tree we had planted together when I was only four years old. Back then, life was simple, ya know?

After he was laid to rest, I raided the bunker for anything and everything I could carry. I packed as many cases of dehydrated rations as I dared to carry, along with as much ammo and medical supplies as I could fit into the few duffle bags he had laying around the little room. I took only what I knew how to use. The crossbow that was much too heavy for me to actually use, along with all the bolts. The small pistol I had been using ever since I was 13. The bow that was hand crafted on my 16th birthday. Lastly, the beautifully made sword that my father had given to me after his mother died. His mother, my grandmother, was a firm believer that a woman should know how to wield a weapon and protect the lives of her children, no matter what. Could she see me now, she'd be proud.

My father, on the other hand, was a cruel, wicked man. I was a tomboy from the time I could walk. I was always getting myself into the same trouble as my older brother, Johnny and James were, rather than staying home being the precious little girl my baby sister, Joanna was. My mother called me her ugly duckling. She swore up and down that one day, I'd become the woman she always wanted me to. That is, up until she died when I was 13. After that, my mother's dream of me becoming a lady was lost, along with my care for being sweet or innocent. After my mother's death, my father developed the attitude that if I wanted to act like a boy, I'd be treated as one. He's whoop me just as fiercely and painfully as he did my brothers. He'd throw me against the wall and beat me until I was black and blue all over.

After a while, it stopped affecting me. Instead, it drove me to the forest just outside our house. There, with the help of my uncle, I learned to hunt. I poured all my hatred for my father into developing a skill I never thought I would rely so heavily on. It's thanks to that, that I made it this far.

So how does a 26 year old woman survive the end of the world? She runs. And she runs fast.

* * *

I was hidden between two bushes with my ever faithful German shepherd, Riley, at my side when I saw him. His alert eyes were the first thing I noticed, next to crossbow that was slung carelessly over his shoulder. I had cleverly parked my old Chevy van deep in the woods, away from where I was hunting. Thankfully too, since this man, this…hunter, seemed to be very good at tracking his game.

We happened to be tracking the same deer. His arrow had embedded itself deep into the creature's side, but the poor animal had a lot of fight still in it. I watched, my stomach growling. This was my game. I'd seen it first.

Riley growled softly, his ears perked as the scent of the deer hit his nose. We'd been hunting together since the start of all this and over the last year or so, he'd become a very good hunting dog. I watched in horror as the man approaching _my_ deer.

My hunger was greater than my care for danger. I leveled my bow and let an arrow loose. It tore through the bushes, embedding itself in the truck of the tree, just above the man's head. He jerked around, his eyes scanning the bushes for the source of his attacker. I smiled to myself. Surely, he wouldn't spot me from where he stood. I knew these woods like the back of my hand. I'd been living in them for the better part of three months.

His stance proved how much skill he had. He circled carefully, the deer now forgotten. Unlike him, however, I took the chance to end the deer's painfully short life, my arrow embedding itself deeply into the animal's skull. I smiled with pride before carefully moving from my spot, still gracefully hidden beneath the dirt and leaves.

"Who's there?" the man called out. His accent was familiar. A Georgia accent, one that I had so long since heard. He had the gruff, redneck drawl about him, the same type my uncle once harbored. I smiled as I finally gave up my hiding spot. I wasn't afraid of this man. There was nothing he could do to me that hadn't already been done.

"Don't even think about shooting that thing," I said quickly, my hands raised, my bow carefully balancing in one hand. Riley growled protectively, his fur standing on end. "You even think about it, and my dog here will tear your throat out."

"That how you greet all people?" the man asked. His blue eyes seemed to show amusement.

"Only the one's wielding a crossbow and a half ass concealed knife," I shrugged. "Mind lowerin' that thing so I can get my arrows back?"

"You killed my deer," he muttered as he lowered his weapon. I would have laughed at his child-like tone, had I not been starving half to death.

"T'was mine long 'fore it was yours," I said sternly as I retrieved my arrows. "Been tracking it for a few nights now."

"Took ya this long to kill it?" he asked skeptically.

"Naw," I shook my head. "Was hoping it'd lead me to the rest of its herd," I shrugged. "Winter's almost here. Gotta stock up 'fore the first snowfall."

"You plannin' on living in the woods all winter?" he asked doubtfully. I saw something change in his eyes as he said it.

"Prolly. Ain't nowhere else to go," I shrugged. I stared at the deer lying at our feet. "You got a group or somethin'?"

"What's it to ya?" he said gruffly.

"If ya do, take the deer with ya. I'll find another," I shrugged. "Besides, I've got my dog. We'll be able to track down rats this winter at least."

I stared back the way I came, ignoring the man's rough calls. I looked at Riley and with a single nod, we broke apart. I took to the trees and he took to the bushes, just as we always did when I was trying not to have anyone follow me. It seemed to work.

I made it back to my van with no disturbances. I was grateful for that, but that silence, that bliss, was soon diminished by the sound of walkers growling and people shouting. Before I could think, Riley and I were running towards the sounds, ready to fight for whatever reason.

What I came face to face with, will disturb me for the rest of my life. Knowing what I know now, I should have trusted the hunter and followed him, rather than run to the rescue of the screaming people. Because that was my biggest mistake. Trying to play hero in a world where heroes always die.

* * *

**A/n - Another TWD Fic! This one is set prior to Lori dying, spreading to where the series is now, loosely following the storyline. Please let me know what you think! I promise, this one will run far longer than any fic I ever wrote before. **


	2. Chapter 1 - Strangers

Riley ran beside me as I darted through the trees, my bow firmly gripped in my hand, an arrow already loaded. When I reached a small clearing, my stomach dropped. Riley growled viciously, his eyes ablaze with hatred for the creatures stumbling about. The undead. He snapped and tried to tug away from me, but I held firmly to his collar, silently taking in the scene. We were still hidden, both of us tightly pressed into a bush, away from the crossfire.

To my amazement, there was a small group of people, real, breathing humans, trying to ward off the small herd of undead. I counted twenty to their five. A woman was sobbing, clutching a small child close to her body. A man with a firm, grim expression was shooting at the creatures, his face masking all emotion. Another man, one with only one hand, was warding them off with what seemed to be a prosthetic knife like hand. I was taken aback by his skill and drive. Another man stood close by, his knives slashing with pure hate.

My instincts told me to flee to the safety of my van. To go back and find food like I was originally doing before stumbling upon the strange crossbow wielding man. But my heart pushed me onwards. I released Riley's collar and let him loose. The young dog took off, growling and launching himself at the zombies. He tore into their skulls like they were prey rather than the other way around.

Riley always wore a thick, bullet proof vest. It was something I never took off him. It was rigged with sharp studs, which often helped bring the zombies down to his height. He also had a thick, wide collar around his neck, protecting his throat from threats. Though his long fur provided enough protection, I was never willing to risk the dog's life. He'd been bit before, but thankfully, by some miracle, dogs seemed to be immune to whatever disease had caused this horrible, almost unrealistic plaque.

I waited until Riley cleared a path before running towards the woman. She cried out in panic as one of those…things grabbed hold of her, sinking its teeth deep into her throat. I fought back a gag as I tore the crying child from her arms. I held the little girl, whose blue eyes were wide with fright, tight against my chest as I clipped my bow back onto my back before drawing my sword. For once, I was grateful for the long, lethal blade. I swung it with skill and precision, the blade not once faltering in my hands, despite the child clinging to my chest.

I soon found myself back to back with the one handed man, he was breathing hard, his body pressed against mine.

"Your friend done went and rang the dinner bell," I growled, taking a moment to readjust my posture. The child was hindering my usual speed, but I refused to set her down.

"I know," he huffed. "Who are you?"

"Not important," I spat. "What's important is getting out of this mess alive."

"No shit," he growled. We turned in perfect unison, using one another to keep the other alive. We cleared as many zombies away as we could, freeing up an almost ideal path through the trees.

"Hey kid, I need you to hang on, alright?" I said to the little girl in my arms. She nodded her little head, her hands clinging tightly around my neck. I whistled once for Riley, who bounded towards me, his fur cakes with blood and flesh.

"Van, now," I commanded him. He barked once before taking off into the trees.

"C'mon!" I shouted to the other men. Much to my surprise, they followed. We leaped over roots and bushes, our pace never slowing as we neared my van. Once it came into view, Riley slowed down slightly, his natural instinct to protect his territory kicking in. He turned to the men following behind me, his teeth bared as growls ripped from his chest.

"Relax, Riles, they're human," I chided as I rubbed the dog's head, letting the girl finally out of my arms. She sank to the ground, shaking and sobbing, her auburn hair a ratty mess. I sighed as I took a few much needed breaths and steadied my racing heart.

"Again, I ask, who the fuck are you?" the man with one hand asked.

"Harleigh," I spat. I tossed the sword onto the ground, the adrenaline finally wearing off. "And you all are?"

"Merle," the man nodded. "That's Martinez and that there's the Governor. Don't know who the kid is. We was trying to save her and her ol' lady back there."

"The governor?" I cocked an eyebrow. "Seriously? What is this, dungeons and dragons?" I spat. I wasn't impressed. Merle chuckled, but the man that called himself the Governor didn't look remotely amused.

"Why'd you help?" he asked me, his voice stern. He was trying to size me up, no doubt.

"Heard the woman scream," I shrugged. "I was raised not to leave no one behind."

"She's got skill, Governor," the other man, Martinez, said softly. "We could use someone like her in Woodbury."

"Woodbury?" I asked, my eyes widening. "You've got a town or somethin'?"

"Or something," the man said.

"C'mon now, I saved your sorry asses," I scoffed. "Be a shame to have ta feed y'all to the zombies."

"You wouldn't," Merle scoffed.

"Don't test me," I growled. My stance changed from one of interest to that of a skilled, fast huntress. My uncle always said if looks could kill, I'd have killed a hundred men.

"Yeah, we got a town," the Governor said softly. "A real safe place. You got a group?"

"No," I frowned. "Just me and my dog." I looked down at the little girl. "And this here girl, I suppose."

"You're welcomed to join us," he said, his eyes sparkling with interest. "We sure could use someone like you."

"Are your people…" I thought about how to word my question. "Do you allow people to come and go as they please?"

"Absolutely," he smiled. He seemed so sincere, it was almost disgusting. "We don't hold people prisoner."

"Alright, just till winter passes," I nodded. "Then me and this here little girl, we'll be moving on."

"Didn't take you as the motherly type," Merle chided.

"Lost my little boy when all this started," I said, my voice dripping with venom. "It's only instinct. 'Sides, a little girl this age needs a mama around."

I knelt down beside the little girl, my hand lightly brushing away her tears. "What's your name, sweetheart?" I asked softly.

"A-Alana," she stammered, tears falling from her beautiful blue eyes.

"Well Alana, we're gon' keep you nice and safe, alright?" I smiled at her. She looked doubtful. "See that dog there? That's Riley. He's real good with kids, and really, really good at keeping people safe."

"Really?" she asked, her face brightening just slightly.

"Really, really," I smiled. She nodded her tiny head, her little hands reaching for my neck. I pulled her in for a hug, not caring that these strangers, these potentially dangerous men, could see the exchange. I picked the little girl up and opened the back door to the van.

"You guys on foot?" I asked, tossing a look over my shoulder.

"Yeah," Merle nodded his scruffy head. "Why?"

"Get in," I nodded to the van. I buckled the little girl into the back seat before patting the seat next to her. Riley jumped up, his tail wagging as he pressed his head against the little girl's face. She giggled softly. I moved some of the bags around in the back, making room for the three strange men.

"Mind if I take shotgun, kitten?" Merle asked, shooting me a smile.

"Not a chance in hell, hillbilly," I snarled. I picked up my sword and placed it, along with my bow and arrows, into the passenger side. Once everyone was situated, I turned the van on, smiling as it purred to life. With the Governor giving me directions from the back of the van, we slowly made our way to Woodbury.

As soon as the walls came into sight, I found myself envious of the town these people had created. The thought of safety popped into my mind, forcing a smile to cross my faith. God, was I mistaken.


	3. Chapter 2 - Break Free

The first thing I did when the Governor led the way into the little shack that would serve as mine and the girl's house, was take a long, hot shower. I could hear Riley barking softly through the steady sound of the water pelting down on my skin, Alana laughing at something he did. I smiled as I scrubbed the dirt and blood from my skin, the warm water soothing away all doubt and tension I'd felt earlier.

After washing my long, dark hair, I stepped out of the shower, still in awe that the town had working plumbing. I dried off quickly, pulling on a new set of clothes. I pulled my hair back before lacing up my old boots. Once done, I hurried out of the bathroom, into the main room of the house, where Alana was curled up next to Riley, her head resting on his back.

"Hey, kiddo, why not get you all cleaned up, huh?" I asked her. She looked at me with those bright eyes, before nodding her head eagerly. I smiled and pulled her to her feet, leading her into the bathroom. Once she was bathed, we both curled up on the old, ratty sofa, a book spread across our laps.

I was in the middle of a sentence when the door flew open, nearly scaring me half to death. Riley instinctively started growling, his fur standing on end as I quickly took hold of his collar, holding him in place.

"What?" Merle's annoying, snide voice chimed. "Dog don't like me, huh?"

"He doesn't take to strangers," I said coolly. "What'cha want, Merle?"

"The Governor's asking for you," he said with a smirk. "I can watch the rugrat for ya."

"Thanks, but no thanks," I said with a stern shake of my head. "I'll bring her with me."

I didn't give him a chance to argue. I picked Alana up and hugged her securely in my arm. Riley stood at my side, still growling. I couldn't help but wonder what was going through that dog's mind. Though he never took to strangers, he normally wasn't this high strung. It made me question our safety, but only briefly.

Merle muttered a few choice words before leading the way through the streets over to where the Governor and Martinez were standing.

"Ah, Harleigh, seems you're making yourself comfortable!" he chimed brightly. If I didn't know better, I could have sworn I heard sarcasm dripping in his voice.

"Yes, thank you," I said as kindly as I could. It'd been a long time since I was last around other people. It seemed foreign. Strange.

"We're having a meeting tonight, was wondering if you'd like to join us?" he asked kindly.

* * *

Over the next four months, I spent countless hours training in every type of warfare possible, patrolling the wall, going out on runs, you name it.

Alana, who was no more than 3 years old, took a shining to some of the local kids and was no longer the shy, scared little girl she was when I found her. She took to calling me mom, no matter how many times I'd correct her.

Riley had found two strays on the way back during one of our runs, a little mutt I deemed Scout and a large, fierce shepherd mix, who I named Blade. The governor wasn't thrilled with me bringing back more dogs, but he didn't question me once I proved to him that all three could be an asset to the group.

The worst thing about Woodbury, was the lack of rules. Rather, the lack of rules for the men. More times than not, I'd be grabbed, dragged into a dark, damp corner of the town and raped until I had no fight left in me. This happened for the better part of our stay.

Martinez and the rest of the Governor's soldiers showed no remorse, not even when Merle, of all people, told them to shape up and knock it off. I stopped caring. Along with my lack of care, I stopped fighting. I grew numb.

It was late one early spring morning when they brought them in. A sick looking blonde and her dark friend. I watched in awe as Martinez and Merle drove through the gate. The dark, strong looking woman looked at me with troubled eyes. I could tell that she didn't want to be there. I couldn't blame her.

"Harleigh!" a man roared. I turned around, breaking my train of thought.

"Yes, Marco?" I called down to the man. He was staring up at me, his eyes squinted against the sunlight.

"The Governor wants to see you, said it's urgent," he barked. I nodded and jumped down from the fence. Riley quickly made his way over to me, protective as ever. As I hurried down the street, I took note that Alana was playing with two of the local girls. I didn't pause until I located the man I had grown to hate.

"What?" I asked as I drew near.

"I need you to do me a favor," he said, his tone empty.

"What's that?" I asked. I learned early on to never question his requests.

"I need you to stand guard over those two women," he said, nodding in the direction Merle had taken the girls. "Don't let them leave."

"Alright," I nodded. He gave me a firm nod before stalking off to do whatever it was he did. I sighed and whistled. Scout and Blade followed me and Riley towards the building. The small pack of dogs had learned to follow my commands without question. It made life a lot easier. Plus, it was rare a man would corner me with three vicious dogs flaking my every move.

I leaned against the far wall of the building, not really caring about the task at hand. Instead, I found myself formulating a plan. I wanted, no, I needed out. This town, these people, they were horrible.

I found myself remembering my first attack. It had taken place just days after I arrived at Woodbury…

"_Hey, kitten," one of Merle's men called, his slur clearly indicating that he was drunk. "C'mere."_

"_Leave me alone, Ryan," I snarled as I quickly made my way through the streets._

"_Oh, lookie here, Martinez! This lil' slut has an attitude to her!" Ryan snarled._

"_Bettcha she can fight too," he chuckled. I glared at the men, my heart racing in my chest. I'd seen this happen before._

_The next thing I knew, I was on the ground being dragged into the nearest building by my hair. I fought and fought, but it was useless. Three men held me down, while Ryan, a cruel, heartless man, did to me what no man had ever done before. He punched me square in the jaw before yanking my clothes off roughly. The other men took turns throwing punches until I had no fight left in me. It was humiliating. _

_When they had had their fun, they left me there, naked and alone, until Ryan returned with a biter, as they called them, on a grab pole. I scrambled to my feet, pulling my clothes back on, my entire body shaking with exhaustion and fear. He set the biter on me, laughing as I feebly tried to fight the creature off. _

_This happened countless times…_

It was then that my mind was made up. I was going to leave. But first, I had to warn these women. I didn't know who they were, where they came from, or if they were dangerous or not, but I wasn't stupid. I wasn't going to standby and allow that to happen to anyone else.

"You're thinkin' again," a familiar voice snarled. I looked up to find Merle standing in front of me, his eyes locked on mine. "Thinkin' ain't good for ya."

"Whatever, Merle," I growled. As much as I appreciated Merle taking my side every once in a while, he was still no better than the other men. He'd beaten me and left me broken and bleeding on the floor just like the other's had.

"Oh, c'mon, Kitten, don't be like that," he chuckled, his tone as snide as ever.

"Stop calling me that," I spat, venom in my tone. "I'm sick and tired of that stupid name!"

"Okay, okay," he surrendered. He looked at me with a curious expression before turning on his heel and briskly walking down the street, no doubt to tell the Governor about my outburst. He was always running to that man to tell him every little detail. It was sort of stupid, if you'd ask me.

I managed to get Michonne, the dark woman, alone a day later. She was out walking the streets when I found her. I didn't want to startle her, so I sent Riley up ahead. The dog carelessly trotted over to her, nudging her leg with his nose. I smiled as she whipped around, looking at the dog in a dangerous, yet impressive way.

"He's fine," I called over to her. Her head snapped up, her eyes flashing with something I couldn't quite place. "Mind if I talk to you?" I asked softly. She gave a small shrug before turning away from me.

I walked over, my heart racing in my chest. This was step one of my plan.

"Rumor has it you and the blonde, uh…" I started.

"Andrea," she informed me.

"Yeah, her, are headed out soon," I said.

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Good."

"Why?" she asked, her tone stiff, like she didn't trust anyone. I couldn't blame her.

"Get out while you can," I hissed, my voice barely above a whisper. "Trust me when I say it's dangerous here."

"What do you know?" she growled, her eyes flashing with anger.

"I can't tell you," I whispered. "Not here." I looked over at the wall. "I'm getting out. Tonight. You'd be wise to do the same."

With that, I left her in the middle of the street to ponder over what I had just said. I hurried back to my house and threw what little I had into my bag. My van had been cleared out the moment we entered the town, but over the course of those four months, I had been slowly gathering back some of my supplies, mainly my weapons. I had them stashed in the woods. Going on runs had its advantages. I had a motorcycle stashed a few miles out, hidden deep in the forest. I made a mental note to retrieve it as soon as Alana and I got out.

Alana, as young as she was, was aware of the plan and agreed with it. As much as she liked the children, she was fearful of the adults and seemed to understand the urgency of the situation. She had a small backpack that held her few items. I clipped the bags onto Riley's back before slipping his collar around his neck. Blade and Scout waited patiently by the door. Slowly, the plan was underway.

I didn't leave room for error. I couldn't. We slipped out the back door of my house, little Alana strapped to my back as I ran, my dogs flaking my every move. We reached a breach in the wall and I took total advantage of the guards' weak spot. I tossed a flash bomb before diving over the fence, careful not to drop Alana in the process. I could hear the cries of the guards, but I didn't look back. Instead, I ran, full speed, into the trees, only stopping when I was certain no one had seen me. Scout and Blade fanned out, scouting the trees for any danger, while Riley ran protectively at my side.

Once I located the bike, I felt safe. I took Alana off my back and sat her in front of me, an old leash serving as a seatbelt. I kicked the motorcycle to life and tore out of the trees as if the devil himself were after me. It wasn't until I was back in the familiar patch of trees where I first saw the Governor and his dangerous crew, that I took a moment to relax. It wasn't until then, that it truly sunk in that I had done it. I had broken free. I was out. I was safer than I'd been all winter. And that, in and of itself, was enough for me.

* * *

**A/n – I sped up the story line a little bit, because I didn't want to spend too much time focusing on Harleigh's time in Woodbury. That'll come later on. I might go back and revisit this chapter in the future to smooth out some of the details, but right now, this chapter works exactly as I hoped it would. **

**I hope you all are enjoying the story thus far! Let me know what you think! Reviews keep me motivated!**


	4. Chapter 3 - Prison

I didn't know where I was going. I was more or less following Riley, who seemed to have an idea of where he wanted to go. It wasn't easy keeping the bike upright through the trees, so when Riley led us to a paved road almost ten hours after we broke free, I was grateful. It was then that I realized what the dog had done. He had led us in a circle, crossing and recrossing the same path we had originally taken. I was grateful for that. We had spent a few hours in our old clearing before we set out on the road again, using the rising sun as our compass.

"Riley, slow down," I told him as the bike started to overheat. He whined and looked at me before slowing his pace. I carefully drove the bike into a shaded ditch before killing the engine, a puff of smoke rising from its engine.

"I'm honey, mom," Alana said tiredly. I knew she would be. The chill of spring was still in the morning air, but I knew the animals would be up and about. I looked around, taking in our surroundings.

"C'mon, let's find breakfast," I said to the little girl after I buried the bike in some leaves and moss, hiding it from the naked eye. I loaded my bow, my heart sinking when I realized my beloved crossbow, a weapon I had so many dreams of mastering, was no somewhere else with a monster of a man. I shook the feelings aside as I looked at the pack of dogs in front of me.

Riley stood stoically, his long fur bloody and matted. His ears were perked as he awaited my command. Scout stood to his right, his small body riddled with scars, new and old alike. His red coat was patchy at best, large chunks missing in various places. I tried to imagine what he might have looked like if he wasn't wild, but to me, he would always me the messy, tiny Scout. Blade, on the other hand, had his head high, his chest puffed, his long, jet black fur fluffed in a way that almost made him look like a lion. He had a deep scar across his face, no doubt from a biter. He showed no fear for this world. I couldn't help but wonder if he was born into it. Raised wild. He seemed to be. He knew his way around the forest, regardless of where we went. Unlike Scout who often took a few extra moments to catch up, Blade was able to keep pace with the bike as if it were simply another dog. Riley took both those dogs in as if they were kin, and for me, it was a blessing his disguise. All three dogs knew how to hunt, both prey and biters alike. With Riley's studded vest and Blade's ability to take down biters with my double bladed half sword in his mouth, and Scout's great sense of obedience and protective streak, the pack was the best thing in my life.

Next to that little girl. Alana. She had taken to me slowly, but now, she looked at me as a mother. She reminded me so much of my son, it wasn't funny. The way her little arms wrapped around my neck before I put her to bed. The way her eyes twinkled in the early morning sun. The way she'd beg me to sing to her, right before she fell asleep. All those little things made me grateful for saving her, even if it meant at the expense of my dignity and confidence.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by Riley's low growl. He wagged his tail before pouncing on something in the nearby bushes. I was about to draw my knife when I saw him come out, a rabbit hanging from his jaws. I smiled at my faithful friend, rubbing my hand over his head.

"Good dog," I complimented as I tied the rabbit to my belt. Alana looked at it hungrily.

"Let's see if they can find anything else," I told her as I picked her up in my arms, not daring to allow the young child to tread the woods herself. She held tight as I followed the dogs farther into the woods. Scout dashed off, no doubt to scout the area, hence his name. Riley stayed close to me, as he always had. Blade, on the other hand, had no problem running off, his nose buried in the dirt. I had faith that the young dog would return with a prize of some sort.

As I followed Riley through the trees, the hunter in me began to panic. Something wasn't right. I could tell by the tracks in the dirt that this path had been traveled before, recently too. By the snare that was spun, yet vacant in the bushes, I knew someone had been hunting recently, but not too recently. By the way Riley's ears twitched, I knew he was following something, but what I couldn't even begin to imagine.

It was Blade who alerted me first. His loud barks weren't too far off, only a few hundred feet to my right. Riley instantly took off running, his tail high as he barked in response to Blade. Scout came running out of the bushes, nearly tripping me in his haste to catch his friends. I hurried after them, one hand gripping at Alana, the other, tearing my bow from my back. I shifted the little girl so she was hanging on me back, her little arms tightly gripping my neck, her bottom resting securely on the backpack I was carrying. I loaded my bow, ready to release an arrow in a moment's notice.

To my surprise, the dogs had led me to a small clearing. In the distance, just across the small creek, I saw something I hadn't been prepared for. Tall, chain link fences surrounded the area, biters surrounding it, though fanned out enough that they posed little threat. Past the fence, sat a prison. I smiled to myself as I took in the sight before me. The prison looked sound. The grounds were not filled with biters. I could tell just by the pace the people inside walked at. I knelt down, letting Alana off my back as I studied the prison. There were survivors just past that fence.

"Mommy, what's wrong?" Alana asked softly, her blue eyes wide with fear.

"Nothing, love," I said softly, taking her hand in mine. "The doggies done went and found us somewhere to hold up for a little while." I choose my words carefully. There was no telling what these people were like. As far as I was concerned, they could be no better than the Governor and his people. But they had something I desperately needed. They had walls. All I would need was a day. A day to make a plan, to map out a route and take to the road. A day to rest and recover and relax long enough to formulate a long term plan for my little girl and me. Riley pawed at the ground, clearly eager to make a mad dash for the prison. I grabbed hold of his collar, silently signaling for him to stay put. To my amazement, Blade let out a low growl before turning tail, heading back in the direction we had just come. I was almost positive it was his way of saying "C'mon, let's not waste all day now."

On our way back to the bike, the dogs managed to catch another rabbit and a small fox. Before anything else, I set a small, barely visible fire, letting the meat cook over the hot embers. I brushed out Alana's long, messy hair before braiding it carefully. I then did the same with mine. I twisted the braids so that they were tight against my skull, rather than allow them to hang freely. I learned the hard way how much of a hindrance hair could prove to be.

Once everyone was fed, I led the way back to the bike, carefully uncovering it from the shrubs. I clipped one of the backpacks to each dog, this way the bike wasn't as difficult to maneuver through the biters. I tied the old leash around Alana, so she was securely tied to my body before kicking the bike to life. The load roar of the motor sent chills up my spine.

I let out a short, simple grunt and Riley took off, his claws digging into the damp spring ground. Blade and Scout followed after him as I drove on, following the dogs through the twisting, dirt path until the clearing to the prison came into view.

What I hadn't taken into account, was getting to the fence. The biters turned tail the moment they heard the bike. Even with the dogs breaking off in different directions, barking as loudly as they could, many were still locked into getting to the load, annoying bike.

"Hang on, Lana," I said softly as I kicked the bike up a notch. I knew we were going too fast. I knew it was too dangerous. I didn't care. Maybe that was how I wanted to die. Or maybe, just maybe, I had forgotten how dangerous the world was in the few months I'd spent at Woodbury, being beaten and abused by humans. Maybe that made the biters a little less scary.


	5. Chapter 4 - Here's Where We Stand

We were almost there. I couldn't believe it. We were almost past all the biters. Almost. I had taken a moment to toss the short sword to Blade, who was no running full speed, cutting down biters as he went. Riley was plowing into others, his studded vest now bloodier than ever. Alana sobbed into my chest, fear overtaking the young child as I fought for control of the bike. It was then that I realized I missed an important piece of information. The breaks had snapped.

We were going too fast. We were getting too close. My heart began to race as I struggled to slow the bike down, using biters as speed bumps. It was no use. We were surely going to crash.

"Alana, listen to me, I need you to hold on real tight, okay?" I said to the little girl in my arms. I felt her nod against my chest. I took a deep breath. We were only about a hundred feet from the fence. I could see the men on the other side, their weapons raised.

"Riles, Blade, fan out," I commanded the dogs. Scout was nowhere in sight and I didn't have time to find him. Once the two were fanned out, barking their heads off to distract the biters, I did the only thing I could think to do. I veered right, throwing all my weight to one side. As the bike teetered, I rolled away from it, hitting the ground painfully, Alana gripped to my chest. As soon as we were on the ground I cut the leash and told the little girl to run. She did so while I loaded my bow, firing arrows through the skulls of the biters that got too close to her.

I stood up, overly aware of the pain sheering through my side. I groaned and chased after the little girl, the dogs now flaking us, providing as much protection as possible.

"Stop!" a gruff looking man barked as I reached the fence, Alana once more in my arms. I didn't need to be told twice. I stopped, my heart racing too fast, the pain in my side growing with every breath.

"Please," I gasped, narrowly pulling the little girl away from a biter. I slammed my knife into its skull, the blood spilling out onto my arm. "Please."

"I know her," another man said. My head snapped up at the snide, thick southern accent. Our eyes locked. There, on the other side of the fence, stood the man with the crossbow.

"Please," I whispered, barely able to stay standing. Blade jumped up on a biter, knocking it into me, causing me, along with it and Alana to slam into the ground. I rolled away from its snapping jaws, barely getting Alana out of the way in time. An arrow crushed through its skull, putting the biter down, once and for all. I heard the sound of the fence moving and didn't hesitate to push Alana towards the opening. I whistled loudly, calling both dogs in. I scanned the area, trying to locate Scout, who had been carrying my bag of medical supplies. It was then I realized the little dog hadn't made it. I could see a small herd of biters eating something. Then I knew.

I turned away from the scene and ran through the gate as a young boy, no more than 13, slammed it shut behind me.

As soon as we were inside, I had a gun aimed at my head.

"Start talking," the angry, scruffy man barked. I took several deep breaths, the pain in my side almost unbearable. I bent over, my hands resting on my knees as I spit into the dirt at my feet. I was shaking all over. Riley let out a low growl, instantly standing in front of me, providing what little protection he could.

"Back off Rick," a new voice growled. I spared a glance up at the man with the crossbow, who was looking at me with a look of concern mixed with suspicion.

"Had to get away," I muttered, trying my hardest to keep my voice steady. I tried to stand upright, but the movement sent a pain so sharp up my side, I ended up keeled over again, gasping for air.

"She's hurt," an older, wiser voice said. I turned my head to see an elderly man on crutches start towards me. His eyes were full of concern.

"Mommy," Alana whispered at my side. I felt all the strength leave my body as I fell to my knees, pulling my little girl towards me. She buried her face into my hair, her little hands tightly gripping at my shirt.

"Shush now, Lana, it's okay," I whispered, holding her close. Riley seemed to relax next to me as the older man came near.

"We should get her inside so I can tend to that wound," he said softly.

"Absolutely not," the other man, Rick, growled.

"Rick," the crossbow man warned.

"Daryl, no. We're not taking anyone else in," Rick barked.

"Ta hell with that," the other man, Daryl I assumed, growled. I felt someone grab my arm. Out of habit, I lashed out, knocking the hand away. Daryl gave me a warning look before offering his hand again. This time I took it, leaning heavily against him while my free hand gripped onto Alana's.

* * *

It took Hershel a few minutes to patch the wound, a deep, long cut in my side from my ribcage down to my pelvis. I explained what happened with the bike and he nodded knowingly. I had gotten snagged on one of my own blades, how graceful was that?

While he worked on my wounds, I tried my best to explain what happened to Rick and Daryl.

"There's a town, not too far from here. Ran by a man who calls himself the Governor," I said slowly, my eyes locked on Alana, who was sitting across the room, Riley curled at her side. Blade was standing guard, pacing the space between us and the two strange men.

"He's a monster of a man," I went on. "What he…what they do to people, it's just not right." I spared them the details, briefly explaining what I'd went through over the winter. "My dog, the bigger one, managed to find the prison, we had no idea how many of you were here," I finished. I took a deep breath, the pain in my side significantly less than it had been moments before.

"You can't stay, I'm sorry," Rick growled. "We'll give you some supplies and send you on your way, first thing tomorrow."

"Please," I begged, my heart dropping. "For the sake of my little girl, let us stay. I'll pull our weight. I can hunt, run for supplies, anything."

"Rick, I've seen her hunt, she's got skills we can use," Daryl said lightly. I looked between the two, surprised the redneck had defended me. "Besides, we can always use another lookout."

"No," he growled, his mind made up.

The sound of a baby crying silenced the conversation. I looked towards the sound, instinct taking over.

"You've got a baby?" I asked, surprised.

"That's none of your business!" Rick snapped.

"I can run for formula. Diapers. You're going to need them," I tried carefully. "There's a daycare a few miles out. I can get there and back easily enough."

"Not with that hole in your side you won't," Hershel quickly argued. "You need to rest. Getting that infected won't do you any good."

"Ain't scared of an infection," I shrugged. "Seen 'lot worse these days."

"She's got spirit, that's for sure," I heard a new voice chime in. I looked up to see an Asian man walking towards us, his gun level with my chest.

"Lower than thing 'fore you set it off without meanin' to," I spat. I was about fed up with people pointing guns at me.

"Lower the gun, Glenn," Daryl ordered. I couldn't tell who was supposed to be the leader. Rick or Daryl. It seemed Rick had other concerns and Daryl was trying to fill his place.

"Glenn, huh?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow. For some reason, the name stood out.

"Yeah," he nodded, a smile creeping onto his lips. "You are…?"

"Harleigh. Harleigh Johnson, pleasure to meet ya," I nodded, forcing a smile. "This here's Alana."

"She's yours?" Rick asked, clearly taking in the fact that we looked nothing alike.

"Yes and no," I said carefully, watching the little girl cuddle with the dogs. "Her mother was killed by biters the day I ended up with the Woodbury group," I explained. "Couldn't let a little girl like that go on by herself. She thinks of me as a mother now and that's exactly how it ought to stay."

Rick nodded to himself before glancing at the cellblock doorway behind us.

"I guess…I guess you can stay, for now. But one wrong move and I won't hesitate to put a bullet through your skull," he scoffed.

"Fair enough," I nodded. "One of your men even _looks_ at me the wrong way and I'll be doing the same to them, understood?" Memories of Woodbury flooded my mind. Daryl seemed to sense the change in atmosphere and came over so he was all I could see.

"Ain't no one here gon' hurt you or your little girl," he said gently. It seemed out of character for a man of his standing, a hunter, someone cut out for this world, to be comforting a stranger. But he did so none-the-less. And for that, I was grateful.

After the men set me up with a cell, I took a moment to look over what little I had managed to save from Woodbury. I had my double bladed short sword, that was more or less Blade's weapon, along with my small handgun, my long, sharp sword and my bow and arrows. All of which I had agreed to hand over, under the agreement that I was to be allowed to carry my small hunting knife. Aside from that, I had meager rationed, which I handed over without a care, along with the ammo and small first aid kit that had been shoved in the bag Blade had been carrying. The bag I had clipped to Riley contained clothing and my few personal items, including a locket from my mother all those years ago.

I smiled as I sat on the lower bunk next to Alana, who looked sleepy and worn out.

"Hey little one, how 'ya feeling?" I asked her.

"Sleepy," she murmured, a yawn forming.

"I bet," I smiled down at her. "Why not try and get some shuteye?" I asked.

"Sing to me, mommy?" she asked as she cuddled up next to me.

"Sure," I smiled as I softly sang her a little lullaby. She smiled as she fell asleep in my arms. I carefully pulled back the thin sheet and laid her back down, her hair flaring out around her face. I smiled and kissed her forehead before leaving the cell, telling Blade to keep watch. The young dog curled up beside Alana on the bed, his head resting on his paws.

I walked out into the common room, Riley at my side, a slight limp to his gait. I knelt beside him, wincing as pain shot up my side. I bit back a groan as I lifted his back leg off the ground. He whined and glared at me, but made no move to bite the hand that fed him. I inspected the leg, not at all surprised by the small cuts that littered the leg. I'd been aware of those already. What concerned me was the swelling around his foot.

"Lay down," I told him softly. He did as I said. I lifted the foot again, gently putting pressure on the swelling. A sharp cry of pain ripped from Riley's chest. I murmured to him softly as I tore a piece of my shirt and wrapped it tightly around his foot. He whined but settled as soon as pressure was on the wound.

"Seems you managed to get yourself in a tangle, ol' boy," I said gently, my hands stroking his long fur. "Gonna have to be more careful from now on."

The dog looked at me with knowing eyes before returning to our cell. A moment later, I heard a sharp yip and Blade came running out of the room, his eyes alert. I smirked. Leave it to Riley to find a way to bully the bigger, stronger dog.

"C'mon, Blade, let's get some practice in, okay?" I called to the dog. He trotted over to me and followed me as I weaved my way past the group. They gave me a funny look but I ignored it. I was on a mission.

Once out in the prison yard, I looked for something that could serve as a target. I found a piece of rope and decided it would make due. I tied it to one of the posts, before nodding at Blade.

"Blade, fan out," I commanded. He let out a low bark before fanning out to my right, then my left in a swift, simply manner. I nodded and charged forward, waiting for the dog to follow. He did so instantly, his pattern never changing, with every ten feet, he'd zig-zag to the other side, fanning in and out like a pro.

"Good," I nodded as I stopped to catch my breath. I tapped the rope with my knife. "Go for the kill!"

Upon the last word of the command, Blade charged forward, using all his muscles to propel himself into the air, grabbing hold of the rope and shaking it wildly, despite hanging close to 5 feet off the ground. He growled and growled, tugging the rope with all his strength.

"Release!" he dropped back to the ground, his fangs bared, his fur standing on end.

"Good boy!" I cooed as I rubbed his head. He relaxed under my touch, his tail wagging.

"You trained them to kill?" a rough, southern drawl rang out. I looked up to find Daryl walking over to us. Blade stiffened, a growl ripping from his chest.

"Don't come too close, he's still a bit wired," I warned. Blade snapped at the stranger. I tugged at his collar until he finally refocused on me. I gave him a firm nod before uttering a simple phrase that he loved over any other.

"Go hunt." Without hesitation, the dog took off. I knew it there was a way out of the yard, he'd find it. If there wasn't, he'd spend the next few minutes racing from one end of the yard to the next until he found something to return with.

"That a smart idea?" Daryl asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"He won't hurt anyone if he's in hunt mode," I shrugged. "He knows better. Hunt and kill are two different commands."

"You put too much faith in those mutts," he muttered darkly.

"Those _mutts_, as you so rudely put it, are the reason I'm still alive," I growled. I whistled and waited for Blade to return to my side. He did so within a minute flat, his claws ripping into the grass as he skidded to a halt.

"Go rest," I told the dog. He looked up at me with deep, chocolate eyes. "Bed, now," I ordered. He bowed his head, his tail tucking as he ran towards the prison, no doubt following the scent up to the cell block.

"What happened, that day in the woods?" Daryl asked as I started to walk the fence, my eyes staring off in the distance.

"Found those guys from Woodbury trying to save Alana and her mother," I muttered. "Riley was still wired and willing to fight, so we helped. Couldn't save her mother in time, but lord help me, I wasn't about to let that lil' girl die."

"You seem attached to her," he observed.

"She's like a daughter to me," I said. Without realizing it, my voice cracked.

"Did you…ya know, have kids 'fore all this started?" he asked me. I stopped and turned to him. I wanted to tell him to fuck off and stop with the questions, but something in his eyes stopped me. Something familiar, yet foreign all the same.

"Had a little boy. Michael. He was only 7 when…well when this shit happened," I waved my hand around to express what I meant. "He was…he was with my ex and…" I felt my emotions getting the best of me. I took a deep breath. No. You don't get to feel sorry for yourself. "It doesn't matter. He's gone as is everyone else I cared about. Riley and Blade, they're all I've got left next to Alana. And let me tell ya, there ain't a thing in the world I wouldn't do for those three."

"You'd sacrifice yourself for a pair of mutts?" he asked, his tone bitter.

"I would," I growled. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable around this man. Something about him made me remember Merle. Maybe it was the eyes. The way they looked hard one moment, then the next, looked almost as if they honestly gave two shits about you. Or maybe it was just the similarities in their accents. They sounded so much alike, though Daryl, he was kinder. He didn't make me feel like I was an object.

Whatever it was, I didn't have any intentions of figuring this man out. Instead, I pulled away from the fence before walking back to the prison, ignoring Rick's calls. Instead, I went into the cell I shared with Alana and climbed onto the top bunk, the events of the last four months finally fully catching up with me. Exhaustion, both physical and mental, took hold and before I could even try and fight it, sleep found me. And for once, I didn't sleep with one eye open.

* * *

**A/n - I loved writing this chapter. I loved every single part of it and I hoped you did as well! I'm still not entirely sure how I'm going to go about some of the original storyline just yet, so suggestions are always welcomed! So are reviews, favorites and follows! It makes me so happy to know people are reading and enjoying the story! Let me know what you think!**

**Oh, before I forget, no, Harleigh is not going to wind up a mary sue. ;) Though she's a skilled hunter and has her dogs trained to the max, it means little when you're about to have to face everything you tried to put behind you. ;) *spoiler alert?***


	6. Chapter 5 - Nightmares

"_You'll never amount to anything with an attitude like that," my father screamed as he belted me across the face. The worn, leather belt tore into my flesh like a hot metal rod. _

"_Dad, stop!" I begged, blood pouring from my newly split lip. "Stop!"_

"_Harleigh Jane, your mother would be rolling in her grave if she could see what you've become!" he hollered, slamming the belt across my chest, causing me to double over in pain._

"_Dad!" I cried out._

"_Dad, lay off, she made one mistake," my older brother, Johnny urged. "Stop, you're going to kill her!"_

_The belt came down against the back of my neck. I flinched as I fell to my knees. I heard the sound of someone colliding into the wall and when I looked up, I saw my brother looking at me, panic in his eyes. _

"_Harleigh, run," he mouthed as he pinned our father in place. I didn't need to be told twice. I grabbed my coat off the floor and ran out the front door, not once looking back. _

_I headed straight for the trees. My bow was stashed in the small metal box my uncle had given me a few weeks prior. He knew what his brother, my father, had been doing to me, but he was powerless against my father's rage. We all were._

_I knew James, my oldest brother, wouldn't come to my defense like Johnny would. Johnny and I were close. He and I had our problems, but he cared enough to defend me, even if it meant taking a licking himself._

"_You'll never amount to nothing…" "You're a disgrace…" "Your mother never wanted you, you spoiled rotten bitch…"_

_All those harsh, cruel words came flashing through my mind as I ran. I ran until the pain in my legs caused me to stumble, to fall to the ground, sobbing bitterly into the cold, wet dirt. _

"_Remember, Harleigh," my uncle always joked. "If looks could kill, you'd have killed a hundred men."_

_I held onto that. My uncle's kind temperament. The way he always asked me how I was, despite the scars and cuts that riddled my body. The way he'd taken me out hunting every weekend, as long as I promised to keep staying strong. He'd taught me everything I knew. From setting a snare to firing a rifle. He'd taken the time, the patience and often times not, the determination to set me straight, despite my brother's being the more avid hunters of the family. _

"_One day, you'll use these skills and save yourself from the burden your father has over you," he promised me each and every time I ran to him crying. "Don't you ever doubt that."_

…

"_I hate you!" Johnny roared into the phone as I looked at him through the glass window. "I hate you so much Harleigh Jane!" I bit back tears as I rested my hand on the thick glass._

"_This is for your own good, Johnny," I whispered. It was the hardest decision I ever had to make. "You can't keep running around sticking needles in your arms. You've overdosed a dozen times, big brother," I whispered._

"_You're a bitch, Harleigh! I should have let dad kill you! You're nothing but a heartless bitch!" he screamed._

"_I love you, Johnny. Please know that," I begged as tears rolled down my cheeks. "When you pay your dues, you'll be a free man. A drug free man," I whispered._

"_Rot in hell, Leigh! The second I get outta here, I'm letting dad beat you till you're dead, ya hear me? Till you're dead! Ta hell with you!" _

…

"_Harleigh…" I looked up at the man in disbelief. "Your brother's dead…"_

"_Justin, you can't be talking about my brother," I told the man. "He's not dead. I spoke to James a few weeks ago. Johnny's fine."_

"_Honey, I'm sorry. Johnny's dead. He overdosed."_

"_No," I whispered. I clutched our son to my chest. "No."_

"_Leigh…"_

"_Shut up," I whispered. I looked down at our newborn son. His grey eyes glowed in the sunlight. "Oh, Damien," I whispered as I kissed his head._

…

"_Harleigh! You rotten cunt!" his hands slammed down across my face. I flinched, memories of my father washing over me. "Look what you've done this time!"_

"_Daddy!" our little boy shrieked in disbelief. We had raised him to never raise a hand against a woman. _

"_Shut up, Damien!" his father growled, before turning his attention back to me. _

"_I'm filing for a divorce, Justin," I growled, unable to hide the bitterness in my tone._

"_Go to hell, Harleigh."_

_Another slap across the face. Another bruise to add to the collection. I turned and walked out of the house, nothing but my small bag on my back. I didn't stop until I was locked in the van, leaving my son to fend for himself with his father until the courts awarded me custody. _

_But that day would never come._

"Wake up, Harleigh, wake up," a rough, scratchy voice called. I flinched and pulled away, instinctively curling myself into a protective ball, the nightmares still fresh in my mind. I forced my eyes open, my breathing coming in rapid gasps.

I looked at the man calling my name, stunned to see Daryl standing there, looking at me with a concerned look. Past him, I could see Maggie holding Alana in her arms. The little girl looked at me with pure fear.

"I'm okay," I whispered, forcing myself to sit up. Alana looked at me with wide eyes, her eyes shining with fresh tears. "I'm okay."

"You scared us something fierce there for a while," Maggie said lightly. "Alana came running out of here like the devil was after her. Said you wouldn't stop screaming. You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, thanks," I nodded, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "Can you watch her for a few minutes?" Maggie nodded and allowed me to pass her once I climbed off the bunk. I felt someone trailing behind me, but I didn't spare a glance back. Instead, I picked up my sword, which had been carelessly tossed onto the table along with the rest of the group's weapons. I walked outside, letting the cool night air bite at my bare skin.

Without a word to my pursuer, I walked over to the fence and started taking biters out, one at a time, the sword soon slick with dark, sticky blood. Just like I had done for so many years, I took all my pain, all my frustration and anger, out on the creatures that took what little normalcy I had left away.

It wasn't until I felt a firm hand on my shoulder that I stopped. I turned, my eyes glowing with anger, only to be met with a sympathetic look from Daryl.

"You're pulling your stitches out," he said gently, nodding at the blood that stained my shirt. I sighed and pressed my hand against the sound, flinching as pain sheered through me again. I didn't say anything, just walked away from him, fighting my own emotions as I headed towards the prison. He followed behind me. I didn't know why he was so set on shadowing my every move, but I didn't let it bother me. Instead, I found Hershel sitting up with the tiny infant in his arms.

"She tore her stitches," Daryl informed him as he reached for the baby, who Hershel handed over without a word. I looked at the gruff, dirty man, trying to figure out what the baby was to him.

"She yours?" I asked as I sat down, allowing Hershel to tend to my wound. Daryl smiled and shook his head.

"She's Rick's little girl," he said, smiling at the baby.

"Really?" I was surprised. I hadn't seen that coming. "What happened to her mother?"

"Lori died in child birth," Hershel informed me. "Rick's been a mess ever since."

"How old…how long has it been?" I asked, choosing my words carefully.

"A little over two weeks," Daryl nodded. "That's why we need to send Maggie and Glenn out on a run tomorrow."

"I'll go too," I offered. "I know a little store that probably hasn't been picked over yet."

"You aren't going anywhere," Hershel commented. "You have to rest. Recover."

"I'm fine," I said for the millionth time.

"You won't be if that wound gets infected."

I sighed in defeat. I wasn't used to people caring. I was used to being forced to fend for myself. When Hershel was done restitching my wound, I accepted the bowl of beans Carol offered, before returning to my cell, where Maggie was sitting with Alana. I noticed the fresh braids in Alana's hair.

"Hey sweetheart," I said softly, kissing the top of the little girl's head. "Have you eaten?" She shook her head. I handed her the bowl of beans before sitting next to her.

"Thanks Maggie," I said softly to the young woman. She nodded and started to leave. "You all, you're group, you're different," I said softly.

"We care," she said simply as she left me and my adopted daughter to rest. I smiled as I snaked my arm around the little girl's shoulders, pulling her in so she was cuddled against my chest. This felt right. As hard as it was to admit, these people, this place, felt safe.


	7. Chapter 6 - Tombs

"Mommy, mommy, wake up," Alana's sweet voice woke me from my restless slumber. I rolled over to be greeted by her bright, smiling voice. I smiled and pulled her onto the bunk with me, wrapping my arms around her tiny body.

"Hey sunshine," I smiled, kissing the top of her head.

"Mommy, that man scares me," she whispered, burying her face into my pillow.

"What man?" I asked.

"The one with only one leg," she said, her voice tiny.

"Hershel? Sweetheart, Hershel's a good man," I said softly, running my hand through her hair. "Why are you afraid of him?"

"I'm scared he can hurt us like that man at Woodbur…wood…" her struggled to say the name of the town.

"Woodbury?" I said softly.

"Yeah. The man with only one hand," her voice cracked as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Hershel is nothing like that man," I promised her. "Are you hungry?"

She peeped out from under the pillow, her eyes dancing as she nodded her head.

"Well then, let's go find some breakfast, okay?" I smiled at her as I pulled on my thick military style jacket before pulling her off the bunk. She smiled as I sat her on the ground, Blade pressing his head into her side.

"Blade likes it here," she said brightly as she patted the dog's head.

"He sure does," I agreed.

We walked into the common room, where most of the refugees were already awake and busy with whatever it was they did from day to day. I looked around, taking in the rough looking group.

I walked over to Beth and asked her if she minded watching Alana for a little while. She said she didn't, so I left her and Blade with the blonde. I kissed Alana's head before walking over to where Rick and Daryl were.

"We're planning on clearing out the tombs," Daryl filled me in. "Could really use someone like you down there with us."

"I'm game," I nodded.

"She hasn't been here long enough," Rick grunted. "We can't trust her."

"Rick, with all due respect, what kind of person do you take me as?" I asked, my tone gentle. I knew from the conversation I had had with Beth the night before, that Rick was pretty torn up about losing his wife. "I wouldn't do anything to compromise your group."

"I don't know that," he growled.

"I do," Daryl said, surprising me yet again by taking up my defense. "Rick, she's fast on her feet and good with a bow. She's coming."

"Fine," Rick grunted. He clearly didn't like it one bit. I couldn't really blame him. We lived in a world where you couldn't trust anyone.

"I'll bring Riley along. He's got a nose for biters," I said softly, running my hand down the dog's thin body.

"Biters, huh?" Daryl said. "We call 'em walkers."

"I've called them everything under the sun," I shrugged. "Walkers seems a bit more fitting," I pondered. I shook myself out of my thoughts before grabbing my bow off the table, adjusting the strings.

"What're you doin'?" Daryl asked.

"It's a different setting," I said, not taking my eyes off my work. "Don't want long distance in cramped places."

"How long have you been using that thing?" Rick asked.

"Long enough," I huffed. "This one in particular? 10 years. Bows in general? Since I was 8."

"Really?" Daryl asked, impressed.

"Yeah. My uncle taught me to hunt when I was 5. My first kill was squirrel when I was 6," I laughed. "Thankfully, I moved onto bigger game after that."

"So you've been hunting your whole life?" Rick asked, his tone emotionless.

"More or less. Hunting, fishing, camping, you name it, I've done it," I shrugged. "Trees are my specialty."

"Whatcha mean?" Daryl asked, completely absorbed in my explanation.

"I spent a lot of time out in the woods. Learned to climb trees when I was 7, learned to jump from tree to tree by the time I was 10. I can take down an owl without it even seeing me coming," I shrugged. "It comes with the territory though."

"What territory?" Rick asked, his tone changing. He was suddenly glaring at me like I was a criminal or something. I didn't really want to get into my past with this man, but I felt if I didn't offer some sort of explanation, I would regret it.

"My daddy was a real cruel man. When my mom died when I was 13, he turned violent. So I found comfort and security in the woods," I shrugged. "Was easy to make peace with the man when I was coming home with a deer or a turkey or whatever."

"You grow up around here?" Daryl asked.

"No. I'm from Tifton, my uncle was from Macon though," I shrugged.

"Really? Tifton, eh?" Rick asked, pondering my statement.

"Yes sir," I nodded. I flashed a smile before looking at the rough map of the tombs spread out in front of them.

"There's a breach in your back wall. I could probably come up with a way to keep the bit-walkers out," I said, pointing at the map. "You rig it well enough, they won't be able to come through."

"We tried that already," Rick informed me, his tone bitter.

I nodded and turned my attention to Riley, who was pawing at the ground. He was eager to do something useful. The poor dog had been locked up for too long back in Woodbury. Even with his skills, no one wanted to bring a dog along on some of the runs, especially when my attitude towards my group changed. The men talked some more before formulating a plan.

Before we headed to the tombs, I armed Riley with his suit before clipping a short, leather leash to his collar. Normally, he wouldn't be tied up, but due to the special circumstances, I wasn't going to risk his, or anyone else's safety.

As we started towards the tombs, I noticed that despite Daryl's way of being Rick's right hand man, he seemed to distance himself. He seemed to be preoccupied. I didn't say anything to him about it, just made a mental note to keep an eye on the reclusive redneck.

Clearing the tombs hadn't been too difficult. The hard part had been when they identified T-Dog's body. I didn't ask them what kind of man he had been. I could tell just by the looks on their faces that he had been an important part of the group. Nearby, Daryl found something that made his expression drop. A thin headscarf. I looked at the piece of cloth, before shaking my head sadly. I knew he was certain they had lost another member of their group.

Once the tombs were as clear as possible, Rick walked off to do something without a word to Daryl or me. It was then that I took the chance to ask to see the scarf. Daryl sent me a dirty look, but didn't say anything as I dropped in front of Riley, pressing the scarf to his nose. He whined and tried to pull away, his ears flat against his head.

"C'mon, boy, I know you can find her," I whispered. He looked at me before taking the cloth in his mouth, pulling firmly at the leash.

"He tracks?" Daryl asked, his tone emotionless.

"Yeah, he tracks," I nodded. I wrapped the leash around my wrist as Riley led us through the hallways, his nose pressed to the ground. He sat down beside a dead walker, his body shaking with low, inaudible growls. I looked at Daryl, who cocked an eyebrow before tugging the dead body out of the way. Riley jumped to his feet, barking loudly at the door, his ears perked.

"I got you," I told Daryl as he slowly opened the door, a knife in his hand. To our amazement, instead of a walker, there, huddled in a corner of the closet, sat a very tired, very weak looking woman with short, grey hair.

"Carol," Daryl said in a hushed tone, kneeling beside her. "Thank god." I smiled as he picked her up, having to run just to keep up with Riley who seemed all too eager to get out of the dark, damp tombs.

Once back in our cellblock, I unclipped the leash and allowed Riley to relax. He seemed to hum with happiness as he walked over to the far corner of the perch, lying down on the cool floor. I smiled at him, before turning my attention to the commotion in the hall.

As soon as I saw the woman, my heart dropped.


	8. Chapter 7 - Rescue Mission

Rick was holding Michonne down, her katana now out of her reach. I didn't know the woman well, but I knew if she was anything like me, that simple, simple action would be enough to send her over the edge. She looked at me, her eyes wide with fear and recognition.

"Rick, let her up," I said softly. "I know her."

"You do?" he asked, releasing his hold on her just slightly. My eyes flicked to the bullet wound in her leg.

"Michonne, what happened?" I asked, kneeling beside her.

"The Governor's what happened," she muttered darkly. "The Governor and his men."

"Where'd you find her?" I asked, directing my question at Rick.

"Just outside the fence. She was carrying a basket full of formula," he said, his tone flat.

I nodded, my mind racing as Michonne slowly explained what had happened. One of the Governor's men had kidnapped Maggie and Glenn. My heart sank as she explained how it happened. I had a sick feeling that I knew exactly who had them.

Hershel patched Michonne's leg while Daryl called Rick back into our cell block, no doubt to show him Carol. There were so many questions I wanted to ask Michonne, but something told me that it wasn't the best time. So instead, I went back into the cell block to tend to my daughter and dogs, who had been eagerly waiting for lunch all day.

* * *

"We have to go after them," Rick said, his face grim as he glanced at Michonne. "She says she can get us in…"

"I have no doubt that she can," I spoke up. "The wall's secure against walkers, but not people."

"Do you know anywhere they might be holding Glenn and Maggie?" Rick asked, his tone tired.

"I know a couple places," I nodded. "I also have an idea who we're up against. But that doesn't matter. What matters is getting them out before they can hurt them anymore than they already have."

"Carl, I need you to stay here," Rick called to his son. I caught the hurt expression on the boy's face.

"Carl, if something happens out there, you'll be the man of the group," I reminded him gently. Alana was snuggled in my lap. I hated the thought of leaving her behind, but knew there wasn't any other option.

I held Alana close as I quickly braided her hair so it wouldn't tangle. I found myself humming to her softly as she leaned into my chest.

"Mommy, why do you have to go?" she asked me, her eyes full of innocence. She was far too young to comprehend the world she was growing up in.

I thought about how to put it so she could understand. A thought came to me, but I dismissed it. Instead, I took out the old camera I had been using sparingly, along with the pile of photos from various times and places. I lined up the ones of Maggie and Glenn, a cute, simple picture from the night before, along with a picture of both of the dogs, herself, and me. Daryl was standing against the wall, watching us with his arms crossed.

"It's kind of like how the prince always has to save the princess," I said to her, hugging her in my arms. "Maggie and Glenn are in trouble," I sat the picture down so she could see it. "Blade's gonna stay here and protect you," I said, pointing to the picture of Blade.

"Like a good Duke?" she mused.

"Exactly," I nodded. "And me, Michonne, Daryl, Rick, and Oscar are all going to go rescue them," I said. With a swift movement, I snapped a picture of Daryl, his arrows glowing from the flash. When the picture developed, I laid it on the floor so Alana could see it.

"Daryl's the night in shining armor," Alana said, her tone innocent and pure. I chuckled in spite of myself, looking at the photograph. Daryl did in deed have the shining thing down, for sure. His arrows had casted a glow over his body, making him almost seem angel like in the picture.

"Mommy?" Alana said, breaking me from my thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"Is Daryl a superhero?" she asked. I looked over at the dirty, gruff redneck, a smile creeping on my face.

"I dunno, why don't you go ask him?" I chuckled. She climbed off my lap and ran towards him. Daryl threw me a hopeless look, to which I simple shrugged and mouthed 'Go with it'. By the look on Alana's face, I could tell he had told her whatever it was she wanted to hear. I chuckled and tucked the photos away, along with a short letter to Alana that I had written ages ago in Woodbury. It was a letter I could only hope she'd read one day.

I tied my own hair back, carefully securing it in my hood before counting my arrows. I was down to about a dozen. I made a mental note to make more as soon as possible. Once I was locked and loaded, I turned my attention to Riley. He was waiting patiently for me to put his armor on. I picked up the heavy, lead based vest and strapped it to his back, along with the thickest collar I had. I brushed out his visible fur, ensuring that it was fluffed enough to protect his vital organs. I clipped on his chain leash, since it was less likely to snag than the nylon one, plus it served as a weapon should the need arise. Along with all that, I loaded a few rounds of ammo into his vest pockets, along with a bright red reflector, that would be clipped to his collar as a sign that we weren't making it out alive. Whenever things were expected to go south, the red reflector was essential to a run. Regardless of the situation, if Riley was to return with the reflector clipped to his collar, whatever group I was with could safely assume I was dead. I only ever had to use it once, and that was with my first group, when we were overrun. Riley had disappeared for an entire week, in search of my group after I broke my leg falling from a tree after barely escaping the walkers. But it didn't matter. My group was dead. When Riley returned to me, I knew that. I knew, because had they been alive, Riley would have found them. Riley was a swift, smart dog, and would stop at nothing to complete a task.

"You look worried," Hershel noted as I handed him my first aid kit.

"I am," I sighed, sparing a glance at Alana. "I need you to do a favor for me," I said, my tone barely audible.

"Of course," he nodded, waiting for my request.

"If Riley comes back with a red reflection attached to his collar, safely assume I'm dead. If not all of us. It's the most discreet S.O.S. sign I have," I said softly. "If he comes back…without me…can you…" my voice broke. "Can you make sure someone watches out for Alana? She's a good kid. Smart too, she'll be an asset as she grows older. Please promise me that little girl will be okay. The dogs, they can pull their weight here, or they can survive out there. Shoot, they have before. But that little girl…she's innocent. She's pure in ways I'll never understand," a single tear rolled down my cheek. "Promise me, Hershel."

"Oh, honey, I promise," he said. He embraced me, tears in his own eyes. "But you're gonna come back, you got to. My Maggie's out there. If anyone can bring her home to me, I know it's Rick and you all."

"I only wish I could have some of your confidence," I whispered. I broke the hug and headed towards the perch, where Alana was feeding Riley scraps of squirrel.

"C'mon, Riles, time to go for a search and rescue mission," I called the dog. He immediately ran to my side, his stance alert and ready. "I love you, Alana," I called over my shoulder.

"I love you too, mommy. Be safe!" she said, her childish tone breaking my heart.

"Always," I whispered. I saw tears in her eyes and almost changed my mind. But then I remembered that I owed this group our lives. "Be good."

"I will, mommy," she said, her voice cracking. Beth knelt beside her and embraced her. I took that as my sign to leave. I hurried from the cell block before my emotions could make me change my mind. I was outside before anyone else, fighting back the urge to go back in there and stay with the little girl that might as well had been my daughter. I waited until Daryl started his bike before climbing on the back of it. He simply nodded before flying through the now open gates, Rick's Hyundai close behind. Riley took to the grass, following us with no problem at all.

Once we were just a mile or two away from Woodbury, we killed the engines and took to the trees on foot, Michonne leading the way. We were silent, each lost in our own thoughts. We all knew that we might not make it back alive. Maybe some of us were making peace with the gods, while others, well maybe some of us were trying to find peace with ourselves.

* * *

**A/n - Please keep in mind, I intend to loosely follow the series, in a sense that some of the events will play out similar to that of the show, but others, such as how they rescue Glenn and Maggie, ect, will not follow the series. SPOILER ALERT - Because I don't even want to write the scene, no, when Merle and Daryl are reunited, it will not play out as it did on the series. Simply because I need Daryl to remain in the prison, haha. Sorry guys. :P**

**However, I will be adding my own twist to things. ;) Otherwise, what fun would that be? **

**The next chapter will be a little confusing, so bear with me. I'm going to do what I can to rewrite it enough to make it understandable. :P Let me know what you think so far! All kinds of feedback is appreciated. Love it? Hate it? Let me know!**


	9. Chapter 8 - We Stand Together

Michonne and I broke off without a word to the rest as we reached the bushes closest to the wall. We both silently seemed to have the same plan – find the simplest way in. Riley stuck close to my side as we inched through the bushes, scanning the wall for guards. There were only three posted, so I wasn't concerned. There had been five when I got out and it ended fairly well. Unlike Michonne's escape, apparently.

It was Michonne who found a breach in the wall. We exchanged a glance before heading back to the group. Daryl threw me a questioning look, but said nothing when she hissed "This way". We all filed out of the bushes, keeping as low a profile as possible.

Getting through the town wasn't difficult. Every time Rick or Daryl threw a flash bomb, we'd pick up pace. Even Riley, who was trained to track, however, was having a hard time locating Maggie and Glenn. He was antsy, not fully stuck on the task at hand. I was about to turn around and as Michonne something, but she was nowhere to be found. Instead, I shoved Glenn's t-shirt under Riley's nose, in hopes he'd pick up the scent.

Right when I was about to suggest turning back, Riley caught wind of something. He tugged at the leash, nearly pulling me over in the process.

"Easy boy," I murmured, letting him lead me through an alley, Rick and Daryl close behind. Within minutes, the smell of rotting flesh hit us head on. I gagged, my stomach churning. I pushed open a door, stunned at the scene in front of me. Three of the Governor's men were lying dead in the hallway, their throats ripped out, their heads pushed in. I looked around, and what I saw will forever be burned into my mind.

* * *

"_You're going to see some horrific things in this life, Grasshopper," my mother said softly as she braided my hair. "You'll see that men can be monsters. That friends can turn on you in a heartbeat. You'll see just how violent this world can be."_

"_But mom, you're not mean or violent," I said softly, looking up at her bright, blue eyes._

"_No, but some people are," she said, patting my head softly. "Now run along, let's not keep your uncle and brothers waiting!"_

_My mother wasn't a huge fan of my hunting, but she accepted it. She knew it was just part of who I was. _

…

"_She's got cancer, Leigh," Johnny said softly, his eyes full of tears. "Mom's got cancer…"_

"_No," I cried, burying my head in my hands. I let the shock wear off just long enough for me to grab my jacket before heading to the woods where I spent the next few weeks, silently waiting for my mother to die. The night she died, I had been sitting at her side, telling her about a recent hunt._

"_You'll never believe how amazing it felt, mom, the wind in my hair, the rain on my skin. It was amazing," I described. She looked at me for a moment before her breathing hitched. I looked down at her, her thin, frail body seemed to sink even farther into the blankets. I raised my hand to check for a pulse, but it was hopeless. My mother was dead._

…

"_Jimmy? Jimmy, are you here?" I called, opening the door slowly. Riley tried to push past me, but I kept him tight at my side. "Jimmy?"_

_The house smelled like rotting flesh. I almost puked as the smell overpowered all my senses. _

"_Jimmy?"_

_A low moan, followed by the sound of shuffling footsteps responded. I gasped as the man I had admired and looked up to my entire life was stumbling towards me, his eyes red, his teeth snapping together as he reached for me. _

"_No!" I moaned. He came at me, his hands trying to wrap around my arm. But Riley was faster. Riley leaped off the ground and threw himself at my only protector, his teeth digging deeply into the man's throat. But that didn't stop him from coming. Riley seemed to know that. He growled and yelped and sank his teeth deep into my uncle's skull. The load, sickening crunch would remain a reminder of what the world had come to for months and months to follow._

* * *

"Harleigh?" Daryl's rough voice broke me from my memories. He was standing in front of me, his hands on my shoulders. It was then that I realized I was trembling. There in the corner sat Glenn, his face beaten to a pulp. Maggie was in his arms, her face frozen in fear. "Harleigh, we have to move. We have to get them outta here. You with us?" Daryl's tone was strangely gentle.

"Man, she's gon' go into shock," Oscar said from somewhere behind us. "We need to move, now man!"

"Shut up," Daryl spat before turning his attention back to me. "Think of your little girl," he said, his forehead pressed against mine. "Think of that little girl of yours."

The smell. I couldn't escape the smell. I groaned and turned away, emptying the contents of my stomach onto the dirty, blood covered floor. I spit one last night before straightening up, my head fuzzy, but my senses in tune to what we had to do.

"Riley, c'mon," I called to my friend. He looked at me with worried eyes before taking off down the hallway. I wrapped an arm around Maggie while Oscar helped Glenn to his feet. Together, our small ground made for the streets.

"We'll never get past them now," Maggie sobbed into my shoulder as I led the way through the alley.

"We have to," I said softly. I looked around, gauging the best escape route. "Rick, take the ground back the way we came," I said softly.

"What about you?" he asked. I could see it in his eyes. He was close to losing it. But so was I. And unlike him, I didn't have a group, not really, waiting for me. I had only my daughter and my dogs.

"I'll be there, don't worry," I whispered before pushing Maggie to Glenn. I took off, firing my arrows as quickly as I could load them.

"Kitten?" a vaguely familiar voice asked as the dust settled. The one handed man came into view.

"Merle?" Daryl's voice choked out behind me.

"Daryl?!" Merle looked stunned.

"Here ta help?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he nodded, quickly getting over his shock. The three of us provided cover fire for the group, but not before we lost Oscar to a stray bullet. My heart sank, but I didn't give up. Instead, the three of us sent arrows and bullets through the heads of several of the Governor's most trusted men. In a way, it felt like a huge accomplishment.

"Flash bomb," I called to Daryl, who nodded and threw the bomb towards the oncoming men. As soon as it went off, we took advantage of the smoke, quickly clearing the fence in time to meet up with the group at the cars.

"He's not coming back with us," Rick said as soon as Merle came into view.

"Like hell he ain't," Daryl spat. "He's my brother!"

"He kidnapped us!" Glenn growled. I threw a hopeless look at Merle, who looked at his feet as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Governor still havin' you do all his dirty work, eh?" I said slowly. Merle looked up, a sly smirk on his face.

"Always has," he shrugged. "You owe me," he said to Rick.

"I ain't owe you shit!" Rick growled.

"No, you do," I said carefully. I nodded back the way we came. "Merle didn't have to side with us. Even with Daryl bein' his brother an' all."

"What're you getting at?" Rick growled defensively.

"How do you think we got in so easily?" I asked, my tone guarded. "Rick, Merle told his guards to take a break. We shouldn't have been able to slip in that easily."

"We didn't! We almost lost our entire group going in there!" Rick shouted at me, coming up so he was right in my face. "Don't you dare take up defense!"

I shrank back. I thought the man was going to hit me. Daryl stepped between us, his eyes on fire.

"Rick, back off," he growled.

A moan from Glenn put the argument to an end. I looked at the broken man, my heart sinking. "We have to get him back to Hershel," I said softly. Rick's expression softened then. I don't know what changed, but he said nothing as he headed to the car, helped Glenn in, then threw a dirty look at Daryl and me.

"He ain't riding with us," he growled.

I smiled in spite of myself.

"Riley and me, we'll walk back," I told Daryl. "You two get back to the prison and be ready to let us in, 'kay?"

"Why're ya doin' this, Leigh?" Merle asked me, his tone almost sincere. "Ya ain't owe me nothin'."

"I owe your brother my life," I shrugged. "I know what it's like to watch your kin get torn away from you. Wasn't about to watch it happen to the man that saved my skin," I shrugged again. I unclipped Riley's leash and told the dog to scout the trail before looking back at the pair. "Family's everything in this life."

Without another word, I took off, running as fast as my legs would carrying me, through the trees and bushes, like I had so many times before. I knew I'd reach the prison within an hour or two. I wasn't trying to cover my tracks. I didn't have to, for I left none behind.

As I ran, I couldn't help but wonder what side Merle was more loyal to. His brother and the group, or the Governor and Woodbury. It was a scary thought. Maybe defending Merle Dixon would prove to be yet another mistake I stupidly made by letting my heart get in the way of judgment. But in that moment, I didn't regret it. Rick had to realize that Daryl had given everything for the group – it was only fair that Rick himself made a few sacrifices for the rough, fearless redneck.

* * *

**A/n - Yeah, yeah, Merle's OOC. Deal with it. :P I loved Merle come the end of his life, therefore, I'm keeping him around for a little longer. :D Besides, he'll play his part, trust me. ;) **

**Anyway, hope you liked this chapter! I had a waaay better version of it, but my computer decided to eat my file again. :( **


	10. Chapter 9 - Remorse

I slowed my pace as night fell on the forest. Riley grew impatient by my slowing pace. I was lost in thought, no longer concerned with either of our wellbeing. Instead, I was hung up on the past and how if I had been just a little faster, just a little smarter, maybe I could have prevented the nightmare that had soon become my life.

A low moan didn't shake me from my thoughts. I didn't even flinch. The walker walked right on past me, either because I smelled like it, or because…well maybe I was already dead.

My grip on reality slipped as I aimlessly walked through the forest, no longer paying attention to the trail. Riley whined, growing more and more nervous. I sank to the ground next to a tree, all the fight and determination lost along with my sanity. I clipped the red reflector to Riley's collar and told him to go. He barked, but did as I said. As his footfalls grew more distant, I allowed myself to cry. I allowed all the pain, all the emotional turmoil to finally take over.

I didn't fight back as the small herd made it way towards me. I just sat there, almost welcoming death.

* * *

Merle saw the reflector in the distance before Daryl did. He was the first person Harleigh had ever bothered to tell about the little S.O.S signal.

"We've got a problem, baby brother," he said, motioning to the dog as he ran to the fence.

"No," Daryl's tone was soft as he let the dog through the fence, tearing the reflector from his collar. "There ain't no way in hell she's dead."

"You think she'd send the dog back if she wasn't?" Merle asked skeptically. Even back in Woodbury, the dog was always at Harleigh's side. He often teased her about it.

"I'm going out after her!" Daryl said, his mind made up.

"Why? You ain't owe her nothing," Merle said, his tone dripping with disgust.

Daryl said nothing. Instead, he grabbed his crossbow before nodding at the dog. "Find her," he commanded. Riley whined, clearly not sure if he should follow the redneck's command. Merle smirked, amused by the dog's confusion.

"She's dead," he said, his tone almost sympathetic.

"Who's dead?" Rick's bitter tone rang through the darkness. Daryl looked at his friend with troubled eyes.

"Riley came back. Alone," he said slowly, guarded.

"She made her decision," Rick shrugged. He wandered past the brothers, clearly unconcerned about the news.

"Looks like some things never change," Merle muttered. Daryl said nothing. He turned back to the dog, hoping, no, actually truly praying that Harleigh was alive.

"I'm goin' after her," he said finally, looking at his brother for backup.

"I'm not," Merle shook his head.

"Please," Daryl breathed. For once in his life, he needed his brother to man up enough to do the right thing. "You owe her."

Merle pondered his brother's words. It didn't make sense that his brother cared for the little, scrawny huntress. But then again, Daryl never was right in the head, as far as Merle was concerned.

"Fine."

* * *

I found myself thinking back to a conversation I had with Merle a week after landing in Woodbury. Alana was with Macy, a kind mother of two. Alana loved her little girls and the three had been inseparable since we'd arrived. Merle and I had agreed to go on a run for gasoline. Apparently Woodbury was running low.

"_Carin's gon' get ya killed," Merle said as we scouted the gas station, taking out the undead as we went. Merle was to my left, Riley to my right, Blade up ahead, his nose to the ground. Scout was trailing behind, his ears perked at every sound. _

"_Caring's kept me alive this long," I shrugged as I quickened my pace._

"_You're stupid, Kitten, you know that?" Merle said, his tone as bitter as ever. "Always off helpin' someone."_

"_It's called being human," I argued. "Try it some time."_

"_Didn't ever care 'bout no one," Merle muttered, more to himself than me. _

"_Not even about your brother?" I asked. As soon as we'd gotten back to Woodbury, Merle had asked if I happened to have crossed paths with his brother. From what I had gathered, they'd been separated a few months prior. _

"_That's different. Kin's all you've got," he muttered, his tone unreadable. I spared a glance at the gruff, angry man. Maybe there was something more to Merle after all. _

"_You'll find him," I said gently before pulling ahead, following Blade around the back of the gas station. _

"Crazy," I muttered, shaking my head. "The world's gone to hell, and still, people get their happy endings." It seemed strange to me that Merle never said what his brother's name was. I hadn't even pieced it together until Michonne found the prison. Maybe it was fate. Maybe that was my purpose.

_No_, I thought to myself. My purpose was to raise that little girl. I had to. Alana had no one left in the world. No one other than me. But I couldn't bring myself to move from my perch. Riley was gone and the walkers were swarming the tree I had climbed. I was screwed.

_Nice one, Harleigh, _I scolded myself. _Of course you come to your senses after you've gotten yourself into a mess._ I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to die. Right there, I wanted to roll over and give up.

"_You'll never amount to nothing…" "You're a disgrace…" "Your mother never wanted you, you spoiled rotten bitch…"_

"_You deserved all the lashes dad ever gave you. You deserved every, single one of 'em!"_

"_I'll make you scream my name, you little whore. I'll make you scream till ya can't utter another word!" _

"_Mommy!" my son wailed as I handed him over to his father. My heart broke as I looked into his eyes one last time._

"_I love you, honey," I said softly as I handed him his teddy bear. "I love you, don't you dare forget that." I pressed my cheek against his, tears in my eyes, kissing him goodbye. Had I known, I'd never have let him go. _

I broke down right there and then. Tears rolled down my cheeks until there were no tears left to cry. And then I regretted my decisions. Each and every one of them. All I wanted was to hold my little girl in my arms and kiss her goodnight. And now, well now that wasn't even going to happen. Instead, I would starve to death, in that tree. Or maybe I'd fall and turn into one of them. Or maybe…No. That wasn't a possibility anymore. _No_. This time, there was no knight in shining armor or escape or four legged friend to get me out. Even my dog knew it was better to leave me than to fight to keep me alive. Even _I_ knew it was better to give up on myself. Because right there, I was lost. I was lost in my own head. I was lost, alone and walker bait. All because I _cared_ too much. All because I cared too much to deal with what I was feeling. To put the concern for others aside long enough to cope. To cope with the death of my son. To cope with the death of my uncle. To cope with what happened in Woodbury. I was too damned stubborn to express any sort of feelings. Instead, I put all my energy into protecting everyone else.

Merle was right after all.

* * *

Riley led the way through the trees, stopping every so often to mark a rock or a stump or a bush. Daryl kept his eyes on the ground, searching for signs, anything, that Harleigh was alive. After walking what seemed like forever, listening to his brother's endless complaints and insults, they finally came across something plausible. Her bow. Arrows were scattered around the ground. A low echo of moans and growls could be heard.

Riley froze, his ears pinned to his skull, his thick fur standing on end.

"Told ya Darlina, Kitten's long gone," Merle said bitterly.

"Shut up, Merle!" Daryl growled. His heart sank as he moved towards the sound, terrified of what he may find.

Riley suddenly shot ahead of them, barking loudly, his thick fur flying in the wind. Daryl followed after him, only vaguely aware that Merle was following him.

Riley started jumping at the walkers, his teeth, claws, and the spiked vest cutting through their flesh and bones. Merle started slashing at them as Daryl took aim, finishing the herd in record time.

Then he knew. He looked around, his heart racing, his eyes wild as he searched with all his might to find her.

"Riley, you old fool," her voice rang. A rustle of leaves caused Daryl and Merle both to look up. Another rustle, followed by a soft thud made the pair exchange a look. From behind the tree, she appeared. Riley didn't give her a chance to react. He threw himself at her, his tail wagging a mile a minute.

"Stupid dog," she groaned, pushing him away. "Told ya to go home."

"Ain't home without ya," Daryl said before he could think. This caused both his brother and Harleigh to look at him in disbelief.

* * *

"Ain't home without ya," he said, his eyes locking on mine. I felt my heart flutter, but quickly masked all emotion. There was no way in hell Daryl Dixon was my knight in shining armor. Was there?

"Shouldn't have come," I muttered as I looked down at my ever faithful dog. "Told ya, Riles, no search and rescue."

The dog looked at me as if to say _'Just 'cause you went crazy for a minute, didn't make you dead.'_

I rubbed his head before retrieving my bow and arrows. I stretched as I tossed the weapon carelessly over my shoulder.

"Let's go," I muttered, barely acknowledging Merle, who was watching me with a dumbfounded look. It wasn't until I picked up pace that he said anything. He was right in my ear when he whispered two words that coming from a man like him, actually meant something.

"Thank you."

* * *

**A/n - Ah, how I love writing about crazy people! :D I told you all that it was about to get a little confusing. ;) Hope you all kept up alright! Anyway, time for some shout outs and replies, eh? **

**bridgetlynn**** - First off, thank you so much for the review! I totally agree with everything you've said! Actually, so much that it's inspired me with one of the future chapters. ;) I'm not going to give too many spoilers at this point, but I am going to say this, 1) Her reasoning for keeping Alana alive slowly shows itself in the upcoming chapters. 2) Expect to see a little something or other along the lines of a very dramatic blow up soon, and 3) that's why I'm playing on the storyline a little. I'm going to keep canon in the sense that I'll follow the main plot changes (Lori's death, The Governor's Attack, the sudden "Flu" outbreak, ect, but very, very loosely. :D And thanks for what you said about Harleigh. I'm trying my hardest to make her a badass without making her into a mary sue. **

**mrskaz453**** - As warned from the very beginning, this story will eventually lead up to Harleigh/Daryl romance. :P But very, very slowly. Merle has always been a favorite of mine, even when I hated his guts. So I had to keep him alive. Haha, for how long, I'm at no point to disclose. xD Thanks for the awesome review!**

**SoleFaith**** - Thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying it! **

**Alright guys and gals. Thanks for reading, and as always, feedback is always welcomed! **


	11. Chapter 10 - Ain't No Hero

As soon as we stepped into our cell block, all hell broke loose. From what I gathered from Hershel, who looked at the brothers with a look of heartache, the group had been debating Merle since they left to find me. Rick was half in, half out of the conversation, constantly shifting his gaze like he was watching something we couldn't see. Glenn and Maggie were firmly against the older Dixon staying at the prison, whereas Carol and Hershel were arguing his case. I listened numbly for a moment before clearing my throat.

"What?" Glenn asked, throwing me what I could only assume to have been a dirty look.

"Did anyone ever stop to consider the options?" I asked carefully, glancing at the pair who stood awkwardly at the wall. Riley stood beside Daryl, clearly attached to the man now. "Did anyone even stop to think the options you're giving Daryl without even seeing it?"

"What do you mean?" Carol asked me, giving me a hopeful look.

I shook my head. Were these people really this stupid? Were they really this out of tune with human emotions that they couldn't see what they were doing to the one person who time and time again went out of his way to protect this group? I thought Woodbury was fucked up with their logic, but at least the Governor's people, the innocent at least, were able to live relatively normal lives, all things considered.

"It shouldn't be a matter of if Merle can stay or not," I said, my tone bitter, "Not if you want Daryl to stay. Merle's his brother. Do ya really think y'all can make him turn his back on that?" The words came out of nowhere. Maybe I was speaking from my own, deeply buried scars, or maybe I still had an ounce of humanity left in my body, unlike these people, who were so willing to turn Merle out.

"Merle can't stay," Rick said matter-of-factly. "He's dangerous."

"So am I. So is Michonne. You aren't kicking us out. Shoot, my dog alone is more dangerous than the three of us put together. Riley? He's been bit at least a dozen times. Who's to say he won't turn into Cujo or something?" I snapped. "Rick, you're dangerous. Glenn's dangerous. Fuck, if I was Hershel, I wouldn't have let none of y'all near my family 'fore all this started. Except Daryl, actually." My words continued to pour out. "Because apparently he's the only person in this fucking group that still has a sliver of sanity left!"

"You don't mean that," Carol said gently. "You're angry over nothing."

"Over nothing?" I screamed at her. "What happened to not turning people away? What happened to humans helping out their own? Y'all are starting to sound like a bunch of hypocrites!"

"You trust him," Hershel said. It wasn't a question. "How long have you known him?"

"All winter," I sighed. "Merle and I went on countless runs together. He's always been true to his word, if nothing else."

Maggie glanced at me, her expression showing that she was torn. It wasn't Merle who had hurt her. She knew that. She knew in her heart of hearts that I was speaking the truth.

"Glenn, she's right," Maggie said, her tone gentle.

I didn't say anything, just glared at each member of the group. Were they really this self-centered? Were they really this willing to lose one of their own, just over a feud they couldn't put to rest?

I overheard Merle say something to Daryl along the lines of "There she goes again, caring way too much." Which got a small smile out of Daryl. I growled to myself before looking down at Blade who was carrying my small bag in his mouth. I knelt beside him, pulling out the dog tags that once belonged to my uncle. I stuck them in the boot while the rest of the group went back and forth about Merle.

"Alana, let's go," I called to the little girl. She raced to my side, taking my hand in hers.

"Where're you going?" Rick practically demanded.

"The watch tower. Until things get sorted out down here, I have no interest in sticking around. If you're still up on your high horse in the morning, Alana and I will be making for elsewhere," I shrugged.

"You can't leave," he growled.

Something snapped. Something deeply hidden under the months of torture and pain. I lunged at him, my arm holding his throat against the wall. My life was drawn and level with his forehead.

"Don't you dare," I hissed, seeing red. "Don't you dare."

"C'mon, Leigh, he ain't worth the air he breathes," Merle's warning tone broke through my anger. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find Daryl trying to guide me away. With one last warning glance at Rick, I turned away from the group leader, grabbed my bag and stalked out of the common room, tears in my eyes. Alana followed me up to the watch tower, where I told her to get some sleep while I kept watch. Blade and Riley were glued to my side, both tense and antsy at the events of the day. I think we all were.

What was happening? To me? To the group? To any of us? Were we all losing our grip on reality? Were we all really going crazy? Could one man be to blame for all that?

I owed Merle more than I cared to admit. He'd helped me countless times in Woodbury, in his own cruel, emotionless way. He'd kept me strong without realizing it. I wasn't about to turn away from that. And Daryl. God, Daryl was my freaking lifeline. If he hadn't stepped up when he did, who knew where Alana and I would be? Was Rick really stupid enough to turn his back on a friend like that? A friend that kept his little girl alive when he was too broken to do so himself? A friend who time and time again risked everything for the greater good? Where did Glenn get off spitting demands? Sure, I'd seen Glenn take out some of the walkers on the fence, but what else was he good for? Fucking Maggie? That wasn't important. He had no right.

For the first time, I found myself missing Woodbury. At least there, we settled things in the arena. We didn't turn our own out just because.

Maybe there was something to be said about this group. Maybe, first impressions weren't everything. Rick seemed to have it together a day ago, now, well now he was as cold as the Governor was insane.

* * *

I stayed up in the tower for a long time. I didn't move from my perch in the one chair overlooking the front of the prison. Alana had fallen to sleep hours before and the silence was eerie and welcoming. It wasn't until I heard footsteps approaching that my attention shifted. As the door opened, I was surprised to see Daryl looking at me with a strange look on his face.

"Rick wants to send him away," he said, his tone barely audible.

"He'd be stupid in doing so," I sighed, letting my gaze return to the fence. "Glenn's whispering orders in his ear again."

"You caught onto that pretty fast," Daryl noted.

"You learn to read people when you're on the run," I shrugged. "What about you? Are you going to leave if they send Merle off?"

"He's blood," Daryl nodded. "I don't want to, but I gotta."

"I know," I nodded. I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time. I felt the need to need someone. I looked up at Daryl, surprised to see a torn look on his face. "If you leave, I'm coming with."

"Why?" he asked, taken by surprise.

"I owe you and your brother too much not to. Besides, Alana likes you," I shrugged, glancing down at the sleeping child. "Between the three of us and the dogs, we'll find something."

"Rick won't let you leave," he said softly.

"Rick doesn't own me," I pointed out.

"Merle said you've always been a loud spitfire. You've been quiet up till now, why?" he asked me.

"Didn't have an opinion," I shrugged. "Now I do. I think Rick's stupid to cut you and Merle loose. If anyone's gonna survive this, it's gon' be the two of you."

"Ya really think so?" he asked me.

"Of course. Merle's a cruel man, but I've got enough faith in him to know that there's good in there somewhere. And you, well you're a hero," I smiled.

"Ain't no hero," he said, looking at his feet.

"You are, Daryl, whether you believe it or not, ya are," I nodded.

"Ain't no hero," he repeated, sitting down on the floor across from Alana. For the first time since meeting either of the Dixon brothers, I finally saw a softer side. Daryl didn't want to leave any more than the group wanted him to. It seemed to me like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Maybe after sleeping on it, Rick would change his mind. He'd be stupid not to. The group needed Daryl and if that meant keeping Merle, they'd just have to suck it up and deal. Because that's what families do for each other and wasn't it Rick who said this group, these people, were family to him?


	12. Chapter 11 - Mid-night Confessions

I didn't even know I had fallen asleep until Alana's loud screaming woke me with a jerk. I'd fallen asleep leaning against Daryl, who at one point or another, had also drifted off. Blade's loud barking made my reach for my knife in the darkness, nearly punching Daryl in my haste to find the flash light.

"Alana, what's wrong?" I screamed over her cries. Daryl fumbled with his flashlight but finally managed to turn it on in time to see Alana's thrashing in her sleep, her screams still loud, urgent, vibrating off the metal walls.

Once I realized she was still asleep, I threw my arms around her, pressing my face against her head as I murmured soft words, rocking her back and forth, refusing to let the little girl's thrashes get any worse. After a few moments of screaming, she settled down, her heart still racing in her chest.

"Easy, Alana, come on, sweet girl, wake up," I cooed. Daryl's eyes were wide as he watched the scene unfold. Finally, Alana's eyes opened. Fear was written all over her face.

"Mommy?"

"Hey, pretty one, how're ya feeling?" I asked, smoothing back her hair.

"Sleepy," she muttered, rubbing her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You had another night terror, honey, don't you remember?" I asked her gently. She never remembered. It was almost more terrifying than the walkers that crowded the fence. She'd have an episode every few weeks. Scared the hell out of me the first time it happened.

"Sorry," she murmured, already falling back to sleep.

"Don't be, doll," I said softly, kissing the top of her head. "Sweet dreams."

"Mommy?"

"Hmm?"

"Sing that song, please?" her tone was so innocent, I didn't have the heart to deny her request. I pulled her even closer, rocking her slowly back and forth as the words tumbled out of my mouth in the same soft, motherly tone my own mother once used with me almost 30 years ago.

"Somewhere over the rainbow  
Way up high  
There's a land that I heard of  
Once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow  
Skies are blue  
And the dreams that you dare to dream  
Really do come true

One day I wish upon a star  
And wake up where the clouds are far  
Behind me

Where troubles fell like lemon drops  
Away above the chimney tops  
That's where you'll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow  
Bluebirds fly  
Birds fly over the rainbow  
Why, oh, why can't I?

If happy little bluebirds fly  
Above the rainbow  
Why, oh, why can't I?"

By the time I finished the song, she was fast asleep, her head resting on my chest. I smiled down at her, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. Daryl watched in silence, his stance still tense.

"She's alright," I told him, my voice gentle. "Sorry she woke you."

"Don't be," he muttered, relaxing ever so slightly. "You two should go down and get some sleep. I'll finish the watch."

"Naw, I like it up here," I said, looking around. The cool spring air blew through the drafty window. "Besides, I don't wanna be down there when everyone wakes up."

"I know whatcha mean," he nodded, a small smirk pulling at his lips.

"How'd I end up on the floor anyway?" I asked. Last I remembered, I'd been watching the walkers claw at the fence, perked carelessly in the chair, not on the floor cuddling up with the dirty redneck.

"Ya practically fell outta the chair," he chuckled. "Decided ya needed some sleep. Guess I did too."

I pulled the thin blanket around Alana before standing up, stroking Blade's head to reassure him that it was alright.

"I'm gon' take the dogs down for a quick break, mind keeping an eye on her?" I asked. I knew by the look Riley was giving me, he needed a chance to stretch his legs and relieve himself. I figured Blade could do the same.

"What if she has another night terror?" Daryl asked me, glancing down at the sleeping child.

"She won't," I assured him. "They don't happen often. And if she does, it'll pass quickly. Just keep her from thrashing around too much."

"Uh…" he didn't look too convinced. "I can take the dogs out if that's what this is all about?"

"Daryl, she'll be fine," I assured him. "Unless you want me stumbling around in the dark with a sleeping child in my arms." I cocked an eyebrow. Daryl grumbled something under his breath but stopped arguing with me. At least he was smart enough to know better than to argue with a woman!

I hurried down the stairs before he could come up with another excuse, the dogs at my heels. Once we were outside, the moans of the walkers grew louder. I stiffened, allowing my eyes and ears a moment to adjust before letting both dogs take off into the darkness. I smiled at the pair as the frolicked across the prison yard, careless and free as dogs should be, not tethered and dressed to kill.

It amazed me with how calm the night was, despite everything that had happened the day before. Even Daryl seemed happier, despite his brother's status being up for debate. I couldn't help but wonder what was going on in that head of his.

And how he was with Alana. It was to die for, really. He was so concerned by her night terror, that it just felt right trusting him with her. Even though I barely knew the man, I'd known his brother for long enough to know that there was something special about the Dixon brothers, and it went way past their ability to survive in a world like this. It was something more. Something buried deep, deep down in those tough exteriors.

"Late night stroll?" a familiar voice asked. I jumped slightly, startled by the sudden break in the silence.

"The dogs needed a break," I chuckled.

"That lil' girl of yours woke up the whole prison," he said slyly.

"Did she really?" I groaned. Now I _had_ to go face the group. It wasn't likely that Rick would let screaming like that slide.

"Don't sound so annoyed," he chuckled. "I explained Lanny's lil' night terrors."

"Thank you," I smiled. Merle rarely used his nickname for Alana. Only when he was truly concerned about the little girl's wellbeing. It was one of the nicer things the bitter, ex-drug addict had done. He had started calling her Lanny the same day he brought her the scrappy old teddy bear he found on one of our supply runs.

"She's a good kid," he shrugged. "A shame she has to grow up like this."

"A shame anyone has to grow up like this," I agreed. "Merle?"

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you do it? Back in Woodbury. That night I totally freaked out and left. Why'd you cover for me?" I asked. When the brothers and I had been walking back to the prison, Merle had filled me in on the night I'd made a break for it.

"Did it for selfish reasons, really," Merle shrugged. "Figured you might find my brother if I let you go."

"I didn't even know his name," I scoffed. "Really Merle, why'd you do it?"

"Cause ya taught me somethin' no one else could," he shrugged, looking at his knifed hand before looking me dead in the eyes. "Ya taught me how to _care_."

* * *

**A/n - As always, thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews! They keep me motivated! C'mon, I've been spitting out a chapter a day almost! Anyway, here's a fun fact for you all!**

**I've decided to make Merle a little, teeny tiny bit more human. Or Humane. Depends how you look at it. We never really, truly got to see the whole side of Merle, and I've taken the liberty to turn him into a nice guy. At least some of the time. Okay, rarely ever. But he has a soft spot for Harleigh, because she's so kick ass. No. Really. **

**I promise Merle's mean attitude comes back. This little sentimental moment was crucial. Without it, the next chapter (Kudos to mrskaz453 for fueling the fire!) wouldn't make any sense! 'Cause you know, I love making everything dramatic. And sweet. And horrible. Oh boy. xD**

**Let me know what you think and keep the little suggestions coming! I intend to use quite a few of them in the upcoming chapters! **

**Oh, and for the Caryl readers, please be warned, Miss "I must stalk Daryl because I'm broken and lonely and he cared about Sophia" will definitely meet her match later on in the story. Dun dun duuuuuuuuuuuuun!**


	13. Chapter 12 - Saw It Coming

Merle decided to stay with us up in the watch tower. He was quiet, which said a lot about what he was going through. Merle was never quiet. Daryl informed me that Alana had slept soundly since I took the dogs out, which put a smile on my face as I pulled Blade into my lap, his dark, thick fur providing little warmth against the cool spring air.

"Are ya cold?" Daryl asked softly, seeing my shiver against the dog's body.

"A little," I said truthfully, trying to find some warmth up in the small, cold room.

"Here," Daryl said, shrugging off his jacket. I was about to object, but he heaved it at me, giving me little choice. Warmth radiated off the fabric. I pulled it around me, smiling in spite of myself at the heat.

"Thanks," I said softly, my eyelids growing heavy with sleep. I buried myself under the warmth of the jacket, my mind drifting to simpler times.

* * *

When morning came, I was overly aware of how stiff my body was from sleeping on the hard floor. Alana was half in my lap, half in Daryl's, her head resting against his chest. Blade was sprawled out at our feet, his tail thumping softly against my leg. Riley stood guard, his eyes watching for any type of movement. Merle was snoring loudly in the chair, his body at an awkward angle. And Daryl, well Daryl was staring down at me, his blue eyes shining with amusement.

"What?" I spat, trying to work the stiffness out of my neck.

"You talk in your sleep," he informed me.

"I do?" I squeaked. I blinked, trying to remember what I had been dreaming about.

"Uh-huh," he chuckled. I felt heat rising to my cheeks as I looked away. Blade looked at me with hungry, eager eyes. The way Riley shifted made me think he was hungry too.

"Alana, wake up, honey, it's morning," I said, shaking the little girl.

"5 more minutes mommy," she mumbled, pulling the thin blanket over her head.

"Uh-uh kiddo, rise and shine," I giggled, pulling her into my arms. She groaned and looked up at me, her eyes squinted against the bright sunlight.

"Why?" she asked, reminding me again just how young she was.

"The dogs want breakfast, and I kinda do too," I chuckled. "C'mon, you can take a nap later."

"Mmm" she muttered, burying her face in my chest.

"C'mon sleepy, I need to stretch," I laughed, rolling her off my lap. She groaned and sat up, giving me the most adorable annoyed look ever. I ruffled her hair before standing, my back aching from the odd angle I'd slept in. "Be down stairs in five minutes," I told the little girl before clipping the leashes to both of the dogs. They padded down the stairs, eager to get some fresh air.

Once outside, I was surprised to see various members of the group already up and tending to their morning chores. Carol and Maggie were taking out walkers on the fence, Rick was pacing the grounds, his expression one of a crazed man. Glenn was hovering, not really doing much of anything.

I could see Beth by the entrance, baby Judith in her arms. Carl stood nearby, watching his little sister with a strained expression.

I didn't need to be told to know what was going on.

"Merle's to leave today," Glenn said with a shake of his head. "We can't keep him here."

"Like hell," I shot back. Riley looked up at me, a growl rippling through his body. I unclipped the leash and sent the dog to go for a lap around the yard. "Whose decision was that?"

"It was a group decision," Glenn said, his voice shaking just slightly.

"Uh-huh," I spat bitterly. "I'm sure it was."

"Why are you so hung up on him anyway? Is it 'cause you have a thing for Daryl?" Glenn shot back.

"What? No!" I spat. "I couldn't care less if Merle's Daryl's brother!"

"Right. So you just pick all the assholes to defend, huh?" Glenn said, his face reddening with rage.

"You're a sick man, Glenn," I sighed, shaking my head. "My daughter and I will be moving on as well then."

"You can't leave!" Rick shouted, coming up to us, his hands balled into fists. My eyes shot to his hands, before meeting his.

"Threatening girls now, Officer Friendly?" Merle snarled, coming up behind me. Daryl was close behind, Alana hiding behind him.

"Ain't a threat," Rick growled. "No one but you's leavin' today."

"Can't do that, Rick," Glenn said gently. "We all already know if Merle goes, Daryl's sure to follow."

"Harleigh and the girl stay," Rick snarled. He raised his fist, only to meet a very angry crossbow wielding man in his face.

"Back off, Rick," Daryl said firmly. I shrank back, not entirely ready to get punched in the face by an ex-cop.

"Two hours and I want you out," Rick growled at Merle. Merle shrugged, not all too concerned with Rick's demand.

"Fine," he said, turning on his heel. Blade followed after him, making it very clear which group he trusted more. I said nothing as I picked Alana up and carried her back into the cell block, where we quickly threw what little we had into our bags.

"Mommy, I thought it was safe here?" she asked me as she pulled her teddy bear to her chest.

"So did I, Alana," I said, my tone emotionless. "Back your clothes, c'mon now."

"But mommy," she said, her eyes filling with tears.

"We'll be safe, don't you worry," I said.

"Harleigh, can I have a word?" Carol's soft, motherly tone called from outside our cell. I really didn't want to hear what the woman had to say, but I figured it was worth a few minutes of my time.

I looked at Alana, who was busy tucking her clothes into her bag. Riley stood beside her, always watching, always protectively. Blade could be heard out in the common room, no doubt up on the perch with the brothers. With a deep sigh, I stood up, my knife carefully hidden in my waistband, just in case the conversation went south. I followed Carol over to the wall, where she looked at me with troubled eyes.

"Listen, Harleigh, there's something I've wanted to get off my chest since you arrived," she said softly, almost as if she were afraid to piss me off. I couldn't help but smile to myself, it seemed almost ironic that this strong, relatively fearless woman was afraid of me. I wasn't a horrible person for thinking such thoughts, I was a realist. This woman showed no fear on crushing other people's emotions, yet here she stood, fumbling over her words while trying to talk to me.

"Make it fast, Carol, I've got things to pack."

"It's about Daryl," she said, her tone changing to one of bitterness. My heart dropped. What had I done wrong now?

* * *

**A/n - Just a little filler for you guys. Haha, I have to get up and go to work, so I didn't want to get into the writing mood and lose my mojo before work. :P Expect an awesome chapter tomorrow or Friday, since I'm off! :D**


	14. Chapter 13 - Bitter and Beautiful

I waited patiently for Carol to say whatever it was she had to say. I wasn't too eager to leave the prison, but somehow, the whole mess seemed so forced, so insane, that it almost made me regret following my dogs in the first place.

Carol paced for a few minutes, like a lion trapped in a cage. I felt helpless, like I was about to get scolded by an angry teacher. Riley cocked his head, watching us from across the room. He seemed to sense the tension between us.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Carol finally asked, her voice dripping with venom. "Going around planting seeds of doubt in everyone's heads, especially Daryl's!"

"Excuse me?" I asked, stunned. What on earth was this woman going on about? What doubts have I given anyone?

"You come here, looking like a train wreck, spewing a sob story about how awful Woodbury was, how much you hated those people, how much they hurt you and that little girl, then you get reunited with the man o' the hour and suddenly you're playing wild card? You're siding with Merle and letting Daryl do the same! You haven't even been here a month! Who are you to get a vote? To get an opinion? You're nothing but a bottom feeding whore who likes to suck the life outta this entire group!" she shouted. I flinched. Her words stung. But she was wrong. So truly and utterly wrong.

"What's your deal, Carol? Jealous Daryl has a heart and you're not the only person he saved? Jealous that my little girl took a shining to him? Jealous that I'm woman enough to own my past, own my scars and carry my weight, rather than needing someone to take care of me all the goddamned time?" I let the anger pour into my words as I took a step towards her. "Wake up, Carol, Daryl's not your little puppy dog to boss around and demand attention from. He's a grown ass man. And his brother? Merle? The man you swear to hate so much? He's more of a man than most. And he's not afraid to do what needs to be done!"

"You're such a hypocrite Harleigh! You come in talking about peace and unity, and here ya are splitting this group up! Daryl's family! We need him here! I need him here!" she screamed. She blinked, realizing the words she just said.

"So _that's _what this is about," I said, my face twitching with amusement. "News flash, Carol, you're creepy. You're so overbearing, it's sickening. Fuck, I don't even hover over my child like you do with him. He's not a little broken boy that needs a mother to coddle him, Carol. He doesn't _need_ _you_!"

"You're just pissed because I'm right," Carol scolded. "Open your eyes, Harleigh, you're an outsider here. No one gives a rats ass if you drop off the face of the planet. You and Merle? You're two of the same. Cold, heartless people who deserve nothing but the worst in life. And Daryl will never care about you like he cares about me. He's not capable of caring that much."

Her words cut me like a knife. I would have clobbered her, had it not been for my strong sense of self control. Instead, I glared at her until I could even out my breathing.

"You know what, Carol? Go to hell," I spat. I turned on my heel, but not before she could grab my arm and pull me towards her.

"Been ta hell and back," she hissed in my ear. "At least I've got a guardian angel watching my back. Who's watching yours?"

* * *

I needed air. I felt like I was back in Woodbury, only ten times worse. Disgusting men who needed a quick fix? I could handle that. Being beaten and raped in an ally? I could live with that. Having to turn my back on people I cared about? I could handle that too. But being point blank threatened and not having the will to put an end to it? That was the cowardly way out and it pissed me off beyond belief. Where I should have been packing my things, I instead found myself taking all my pent up anger out on the walkers, no regards to the danger looming overhead.

I heard a familiar pair of footfalls approaching, but it didn't break my rhythm. I kept plunging my knife into the skulls of the walkers, the crack, the crunch almost comforting. Riley walked at my side, his eyes glancing behind us at the approaching steps.

I was about the plunge the knife into another head when something caught my eye. I looked at this walker for a moment, trying to figure out why it looked familiar. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. It was Mary-Jane, one of the younger women from Woodbury – one of the few people I really spoke with while I was there. I felt all the wind get knocked out of me as my knees gave way, everything finally catching up with me all at once. I struggled to try and recover from the shock, but it wasn't as easy as it once was. This prison, these people, they'd managed to break down the walls I built around myself, just to tear me up like some sort of savaged monster.

"Whoa, easy there Leigh," Daryl's soft voice broke through the haze. I blinked, fighting back tears as his arms wrapped protectively around me. He pulled me away from the fence and didn't let go until he had us behind the overturned bus. He knelt in front of me, his blue eyes full of concern.

"C'mon, can't have you fallin' apart of us now," he chided softly. "What's wrong?"

"What isn't wrong?" I asked him, my voice cracking.

"Merle overheard what Carol said to you," he said gently. "She's wrong, ya know that, right? She's wrong, Harleigh."

"Maybe," I shrugged. I wasn't really taking in what he was saying anymore.

"Harleigh, look at me," he ordered, his tone firm, but gentle. His hand reached up, cupping my chin in rough, calloused hand. I met his eyes, seeing nothing but compassion and concern behind those beautiful blue hues. "She's wrong."

I was about to pull away when the next thing I knew, his lips were pressed firmly against mine, his hand now at the back of my head. I felt my heart skip a beat. I returned the kiss, guarding every move. When we broke away, I felt heat rush up my face. Daryl smirked at me, the sideways, half smile that could stop hearts. I looked at him with wide eyes, not entirely sure what to make of the whole situation.

"Harleigh, she's wrong," he repeated again.

I wanted to believe him. Deep in my heart, I knew he was right. But I couldn't bring myself to believe a word he said. It was his actions that left me believing him. The way his lips were pressed so tightly against mine, the way his warmth radiated off his body, sending a shiver up my spine. His strong, protective hands gripping at the back of my head, keeping me in place. That's what made me believe him.

It was there, behind an overturned bus, in the middle of the zombie apocalypse, with the threat of the unknown looming overhead, that I finally admitted my feelings for the crossbow wielding redneck, if only to myself.

"C'mon kiddies, let's get this show on the road," Merle's snide tone rang across the field, causing Daryl and I both to scramble to our feet. I saw him carrying a small bag, Alana following behind him. "Got all the stuff in the car. Who's riding with who?" he laughed at the looks on mine and Daryl's face. We exchanged a look before following after the older Dixon. Riley and Blade trotted over, eager to finally be out of the confines of the prison. With one final look at the prison and the people we were leaving behind, I buckled Alana in the back seat of the old van before nodding at the dogs to get in.

"I'll take the bike for the first leg, we'll switch off every couple hours," I suggested. "This way if things get hairy, I can lead the walkers away with the dogs." As soon as I said it, Riley jumped out of the van, eager to be part of this journey.

"Fine with me," Merle nodded, surprising me with his lack of argument. "I don't mind this kid, she's pretty tough," he added, looking at Alana.

"I trust you not to get her killed," I chuckled. "Sides, my dogs'll tear you a new asshole if you hurt her." Riley growled softly to back up my statement, which earned a chuckle from the older man.

"Don't get your panties in a jumble," he chuckled. "Lead the way, baby brother."

Daryl got into the driver's side of the van, Merle beside him as I mounted the bike. I kicked it to life, content with the loud roar it made. I looked around, sparing one last glance over my shoulder. Carol was glaring at me, her arms crossed across her chest. I couldn't help but smile as we tore off through the gates. It was bitter sweet. As much as I wanted to stay, I wanted to leave all the same. These people, the ones we were leaving behind, they weren't the people I thought they were. But the two brothers, one of which had protected me when I needed protecting, the other, who cared from day one, were all the human company I needed. Fuck Rick. Fuck his group. The six of us were better off on our own anyway.

_Ya can't trust no one these days_, I thought to myself as we drove down the dust covered road, weaving around walkers and debris. Riley ran beside the bike just as he had the day we arrived at the prison. Though this time, I wasn't riding on a rundown motorcycle. This was where it all was meant to end. Or begin, depending on how you looked at it.


	15. Chapter 14 - Collision

We'd been driving for a good six hours without much action. We had to stop twice, once to fix a flat tire on the van, thanks to Daryl's careless driving and again to retrieve my bow when it went flying behind me when I hit a walker's leg the wrong way with the bike. Other than that, it had been quiet. And then, without any warning, everything went downhill.

For whatever reason, Riley, who was more than used to running alongside motorcycles, decided to veer in front of me, causing me to swerve to avoid hitting him. The movement alone was enough to throw me from the bike, but instead, it resulted in me getting smashed into the side of the van, causing a near head on collision. I skidded with the bike across the pavement, the rocks and dirt cutting into my skin. I bit back a scream as the bike pinned my legs to the ground, leaving me defenseless against the small herd of walkers the noise had attracted. Thankfully, Merle and Daryl were fast. As soon as I went down, they were out of the van, putting a quick end to the walkers before turning their attention to me.

"Anything broke?" Daryl asked, kneeling beside me. I groaned and tried to move my legs, but it was hopeless, the weight of the bike pinning me tightly to the concrete.

"Won't know till the damn bike's off me!" I yelped. I was dizzy from the collision, but still well enough to feel the pain sheering through my body. Merle and Daryl carefully removed the bike. I ran my hands down my legs, thanking the stars above for no major injuries. A sharp pain in my side reminded me of the cut I had gotten the last time I'd crashed a bike. I pressed my hand to my wounded side, shocked by how much blood was seeping out of the torn stitches. I could feel every breath I took. I bit back a scream as I peeled my shirt from the wound. I clamped my hand down on it to slow the bleeding while I tried to assess the damage.

"Bike's still good!" Merle said excitedly.

"Good," I muttered through clenched teeth. "Daryl, tell me ya got a steady hand on ya," I breathed. I was having a hard time focusing on the pavement in front of my face.

"You pack a first aid kit?" he asked me, his eyes hopeful.

"Think I'd leave without one?" I nodded towards the van. "While you're there, tell Alana I'm okay."

Daryl did as I asked, returning a moment later with my bag. After digging through it, he found the first aid kit and pulled out a needle and thread.

I turned away as he quickly stitched the wound. I knew it wasn't nearly as clean or secure as Hershel could do, it was something. At least I wouldn't bleed to death. The next injury that caused concern was the fact I couldn't see straight. Daryl's hands searched my head for any sign of injury but came up short.

"Blood loss?" Merle suggested.

"No," I muttered, blinking against the dizziness. "I know for a fact I cracked my head on the pavement," I insisted. "Let's hope God's real for a second and it's not a concussion."

"Mommy?" Alana's sad voice called from the van. Before I could respond, Blade was bounding towards me, a low growl escaping his lips as he pushed his way between me and Daryl, lying protectively at my wounded side.

"I'm okay Alana, stay in the car!" I called. Naturally, the little girl didn't listen. A moment later, she was kneeling next to me.

"Mommy," she said, burying her head in my chest. I groaned, her tiny body sent pain rippling down my body.

"We can't stay here," Merle muttered, glancing around.

"Hold up, Merle," Daryl muttered, his hand now on my wrist.

"He's right," I agreed. "We have to move. How bad's the van?"

"Can't get it to start up," Merle sighed in disbelief. I saw a cloud of smoke ripple from the engine. When we hit, something must've been knocked loose and there wasn't time to try and figure out what. "Looks like we're walking."

"Awesome," I muttered. "Riley, get your ass over here!" I called to the dog. Much to my disbelief, the dog didn't come. He didn't even so much as let me know where he was. Blade looked up, his ears back. Something was wrong. I knew something was wrong the moment Riley darted in front of the bike. Riley's not a stupid dog. He knows how to respect the road. We've spent enough time training for him to know better.

"Riley?" I tried to look around, but even the slightest turn of my head sent the world slipping in and out of focus. "Shit," I muttered, struggling to see straight.

"Harleigh?" Daryl's frantic cry barely registered. I felt something prop me up, but it did nothing for the splitting headache or the ringing in my ears. The world slipped in and out of focus so quickly, it took all my strength just to remember how to breathe.

"We gotta move!" Merle's panicked cry rang. "We've got company and lot's of it!"

"She's blacking out ova here!" Daryl hollered back. I felt him pull me up against him, my feet barely able to even attempt to hold my weight. "Merle, find somewhere to hold up!" I heard him shout.

"Blade, find shelter," I barely managed to mutter. I felt the dog brush against me before taking off into the trees, his barks coming in short, high bursts, leading us through the trees.

I leaned heavily against Daryl, my stomach churning. We stumbled and ultimately ended up in the dirt. Daryl let loose a line of colorful words before scooping me up in his arms, bridal style, his pace now faster than before.

"Don't you dare die on me, Harleigh, don't you dare," he breathed, holding me tight against his body. The last conscious thought I had was _where on earth is Alana?_

* * *

"Daryl, we can't stay here much longer," Merle's tired, strained voice registered through the darkness. "It's now or never."

"She didn't turn her back on ya, and now you're thinkin' of doin' it to her?" Daryl snarled.

"It's not like that," his brother said with a sigh. "She wouldn't want us getting ourselves killed for her. Trust me, I know 'er well 'nuff to know that."

"We ain't leaving yet," Daryl said firmly. I felt something cool brush against my forehead. I groaned softly and forced my eyes open. Unlike the last couple times, this time, I was able to focus on the concerned expression on Daryl's face.

"Hey," I muttered, my voice hoarse.

"Hey," he said softly, a smile playing on his face.

"Where's Alana?" I asked, trying to sit up. Daryl's hand pushed me back down, his eyes flashing with something I couldn't quite place.

"She's fine," he said softly, nodding towards Merle. To my surprise, the little girl was snuggled up beside the bitter man, her hair a mess, her hands tightly gripping at his shirt.

"Course she is!" Merle said with a snide grin. "Didn't need ya comin' to and killin' us for losing your lil' girl, now did we?"

I forced a smile, then looked over to Blade, who was sitting patiently by the door. He looked exhausted. They all did.

"Riley?"

"Uh…" Daryl scratched the back of his head, struggling to find words to explain what happened. "Found out why he darted in front o' the bike," he said slowly. "That herd, there were more than we expected. He led them away and…"

"He's dead," it wasn't a question. I pressed my eyes shut, forcing myself not to let the emotions cloud my judgment. "How long have I been out?"

"'Bout thirteen hours," he informed me. "Was real worried when you stopped wakin' up."

"Sorry," I muttered. "Didn't expect Riley to play superman."

"None of us expected you to collide with the van," Merle chuckled. "You're tough though. Somethin' like that woulda killed a sane person."

"Callin' me insane now, Dixon?" I spat, fighting against Daryl's hand. Daryl looked at me for a moment, before seeming to sense that there was no use keeping me down. I sat up and glared at the older brother before swinging my legs over the side of the couch, much too fast for my still fuzzy head. My vision blurred and I'm sure I would have fallen over had Daryl not been watching my every move.

"No more slick stunts," Merle chuckled. "You aren't invincible."

"Ehh," I muttered, pressing my head into my hands. "How long she's been asleep?"

"A few hours," Daryl informed me. "We all needed a rest, figured this place would work for tonight."

"Leavin' first thin' in the morning," Merle said. "Now shu'up and go to sleep."

I chuckled to myself before using Daryl as leverage as I forced myself to my feet. Daryl wrapped an arm around me, but said nothing as I made for the door. Blade darted out before me, Daryl a step behind. As soon as the cool air hit my face, my vision blurred.

"Oh, boy, this is gonna be a fun trip," I muttered. I leaned heavily against Daryl, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

"You good, Harleigh?" he asked me, his tone way too gentle.

"'M fine," I murmured, though it was a lie and he knew it. I swayed, despite being pressed against his side. I felt sick to my stomach. Everything ached. For a whole moment, I found myself wishing I was still in the prison. At least there, I wasn't getting thrown into vans or pinned under bikes.

"C'mon, you need rest," he tried to reason.

"I'll rest when I'm dead," I sighed, pulling away from him. I sat down on the bottom steps of the porch, pulling a smashed pack of cigarettes out of my pocket along with my old zippo lighter. I lit a cigarette before offering him the pack.

"Smokin' with a concussion's not gonna do ya a whole lotta good," he noted.

"Neither is getting a concussion in the middle of the end of the world," I shrugged. "I'll be fine in the mornin'."

"Sure hope so. Merle's getting antsy," Daryl said, his tone still soft. I spared a glance at him and saw just how worn out he was. He looked exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I leaned against his arm, offering the tiniest bit of comfort. I had a feeling the poor man hadn't gotten any sleep since the night up in the guard tower, and even then, I knew he only got a small handful of hours before everything went to shit.

"It's gon' be alright. The five of us are gonna be fine," I mused. Blade looked at me with sad eyes, clearly lost without his leader. I patted my bruised leg, willing the dog over to us. He leaned against my other side, his tail wagging against the wooden stairs.

"We're gon' be alright," I said softly, taking another drag off my cigarette, watching as the smoke slowly faded into the night sky.

Somehow, deep down, I knew we'd be okay. It was almost as if the last 48 hours had been a test. A test to see where our loyalties lied and to see if we were really going to make it. An argument, banishment, and a concussion later and here we were, sittin' out on the steps of an abandoned cabin, a cigarette in our hands. Yeah, we were gonna be just fine. As long as we could stick together long enough to find somewhere safe, we were gonna be alright. Then again, with Merle's attitude, Daryl's stubbornness, my recklessness, and Alana's youth, anything was possible.

As I flicked the butt aside and looked up at the stars overhead, I said a silent prayer. All we could hope for was that this was the end of the misfortune for a while.

* * *

**A/n – Aww, protective Daryl! :D Anyway, let me just say, it was a tossup between one of the brother or Harleigh getting hurt. I needed something to set the tone for the remaining 'banishment' scenes, and this one fit nicely. I'm not going to give any spoilers this time though. ;)**

**Thanks again to all the favorites, followers, and reviews! They keep me going! Obviously, seeing how that's two chapters in one night! Guys, let me know if I make anyone too OOC for your liking, or if Harleigh starts to seem like a Mary Sue. I'll kill her off if she does. xD (Kidding!) I'm not a huge fan of making a story revolve around just one event, so yeah. xD**


	16. Chapter 15 - Was I Bit?

_I rummaged through the bunker, looking for anything I could carry. All instinct told me to stop looking, to just lock the door behind me and do as my uncle always said. Stay put. But staying put wasn't in my nature. Staying put often led the more pain. _

_I had to go home. I had to go back to my childhood home and find out if my brother, if my little sister, if my father was still alive. As much pain as my family had brought me over the years, they were still just that, family. _

_I turned around at the sound of something growling. To my surprise, it was Beth, my uncle's old mutt. She growled at me for a moment, before realizing it was me rummaging through her home. She wagged her tail, running up to me eagerly. Though the old bitch was ancient, she still had life to her. When she pushed a little pup towards me, it changed my mood entirely. _

_The fluffy little dog looked at me as if I was the coolest thing he had ever seen. Instantly, he reminded me of my uncle's old hunting dog, Riley Canon. Right there, on the spot, I named the dog after the first dog I'd ever grown close to._

"_It's you and me, Riley," I said to the dog, who cocked his head to listen. "Ready to face the world and all its horrors?"_

_I gave one last look around the bunker. It was secure. Why I didn't want to stay was far, far more complicated. Though the bunker was well crafted, secure, and full of enough supplies to last me quite some time, it didn't feel right. This was my uncle's dream. This was where he wanted to keep us kids safe if the world ever went to shit. Now he was dead and there was no more 'safety in numbers'. There was no way I was going to lock myself in the bunker and waste away waiting for the nation guard or army or president to arrive. _

_I locked the bunker with one swift movement, tucking the key into my pocket before picking the puppy up, making for the van. It was then that I knew I'd only return to the bunker if my life depended on it. And even then, I had no intentions of staying for long._

* * *

_Weeks passed and I finally found a couple of likeminded people. Scott and his wife, Annabelle, neighbors from down the road, along with James, Pearla, and Henry. Together, the six of us, plus Riley, who had taken to hunting like a true bred hunting dog, all made the trek back to the bunker. Annabelle was pregnant and due to pop any day. It was a mutual decision, even if I wasn't too thrilled with it. Once there, all hell broke loose._

_When Annabelle died in labor, no one had the courage to put her down. It wasn't my call and I sure fuck couldn't fend off four people, plus a zombie. So I left them to their own demise. I left them, along with all the rations, all the water, all the supplies that could have been so useful, to rot in the bunker. I locked them in, knowing that once the door was locked from either side, there was no escape. I slid the key onto my uncle's army dog tags and tucked them away in my bag, sparing only one final look over my shoulder as climbed into the van, Riley at my side. It was then that I knew I'd never trust people again._

* * *

"Harleigh, wake up," a gruff, tired voice begged. I groaned and shifted just slightly, too tired to open my eyes. I felt a hand reach for my forehead, causing me to flinch back, more out of instinct than anything else.

"She's warm," the voice said, filled with concern. "We can't move her like this."

"We can't stay here, baby brother, we had an agreement," another voice growled.

"Mommy? Mommy, wake up," a young, beautiful voice begged. I groaned again, this time forcing my eyes open. My vision blurred against the bright sunlight, but eventually I was able to make out the faces of Daryl, Merle and Alana.

"Morning already?" I asked, my voice hoarse. Daryl passed me a bottle of water, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah," he nodded, his eyes watching every movement as I slowly sat up, taking tiny sips from the bottle. My stomach twisted in knots the moment the cool liquid hit it. I felt like shit. Every inch of my body hurt and I knew it would only take one more accident before my body went into total shock. I allowed Daryl to put his hand back on my forehead. His face twisted with an unexplainable emotion.

"How're you feeling?" he asked, a hand on my shoulder.

"Like hell," I murmured. I could barely see straight. I knew it was an effect of the concussion. It wasn't the first time I hit my head hard enough to knock a few screws loose.

"Do you think…?" he looked torn. "Do you think you can walk at all?"

"Uh-huh, ya heard Merle, we had an agreement," I nodded my head, but only slightly. Even that tiny movement sent a wave of nausea through my stomach. I fought against the feeling, carefully standing up, one hand resting on Daryl's arm to keep myself level. "Gon' have'ta go slow though," I muttered. I felt my stomach twist at the thought of running around all day. I leaned heavily against Daryl, my entire body going numb.

"When I went down, I didn't get bit, right?" I asked nervously. Something wasn't right. I'd had my fair share of concussions growing up. Shit, I'd fallen outta trees and whacked my head a lot harder than this and I back up in 'em the next day. This was different. This felt completely unnatural. I groaned as my insides twisted again, doubling over in pain. Daryl supported my weight as he pushed me back onto the couch, his free hand on my forehead.

"You're warm," he muttered. I groaned and threw a glance at Merle.

"Take 'Lana outside. Let Blade run 'round or somethin'," I barely managed to get out before another wave of nausea hit me, this time causing me to double over, dry heaving violently. Much to my surprise, Merle obeyed.

"C'mon, lil' lady, let's go get some sunshine," I heard him say. A moment later, I heard the door close as the trio made for the yard. Daryl squatted in front of me, his hands on my shoulders.

"Harleigh, talk to me," he murmured softly, a hand brushing my cheek. I groaned and leaned towards him, needing to feel something solid. Something real. My head throbbed. My stomach was in knots. Every movement sent a new burst of torture through my body.

"Was I bit?" I asked, tears in my eyes, fear causing my heart to race. My breathing started to come in rushed, panicked gasped. I struggled to get enough air which made me feel even more lightheaded.

"Harleigh, you need'ta calm down," Daryl coaxed. This was out of his comfort zone. He didn't know what to do to help. "Easy, breathe," he murmured, his hand still on my cheek. "Breathe."

I took several deep, shaky breaths before I was able to breathe normally again. The entire situation left me feeling weak and helpless, a feeling I certainly wasn't used to. Once Daryl was sure I wasn't going to hyperventilate again, he stood up, shaking his head as if he was lost as to what to do.

"Was I bit?" I asked again. Daryl had been avoiding the question for far too long.

* * *

She wasn't bit. Daryl knew that without a doubt. He and Merle both had made sure of that the second they closed the door to the damn cabin. They'd spent a good two hours inspecting every inch of her body to make sure she wasn't bit.

Daryl watched as she doubled over again, dry heaving violently. He was at a loss of words. He'd never seen anyone sick for no reason before. Could it just be from the concussion? Surely this wasn't just a normal bump on the head. Had she been scratched? They'd dug a lot of dirt and rocks outta various scratches the night before, but they both summed them up to being road rash more than anything else. She'd been dragged a good handful of feet before the bike came to a stop afterall. Surely…

No. Daryl didn't want to give himself, or her, any false hope. Something was clearly wrong and he had to do something about it. He refused to lose anyone else. He knelt next to her, taking her head in his hands. She was burning up. Her face was paler than he'd ever seen before. She was shaking, her muscles twitching every few moments. It bothered him. It made him feel caged, but he didn't know why.

"Need ya to lie down," he finally said, forcing her to lean back. She groaned, her face twisting as another wave of nausea hit. He kept one hand on her face, hoping it would bring some sense of comfort, before lifting her shirt. Much to his dismay, her wounded side was slick with ooze and dried blood.

"Shit," he hissed, his hand hovering over the wound. That explained everything.

Harleigh groaned again, this time, her body twitching more violently under his hands. Daryl brought his other hand to her face, trying to get her to tell him what hurt. But it was useless. She looked at him with terrified eyes, her lips going a terrifying shade of blue. Something was horribly, horribly wrong.

* * *

Daryl retrieved Merle and told Alana to go wait in the kitchen. The little girl obeyed the order without any complaints. When Merle saw the sound, his expression hardened.

"I've seen shit like this before," he said softly, his tone set. "An infection like that's gon' kill 'er before sunset if we don't act fast."

"What can we do?" Daryl asked, his voice barely audible.

"We uh…" Merle had a pained look on his face as he studied the wound. He'd seen wounds like this back in Woodbury. Idiots who acted without thinking. "We have to cut the dead flesh away and hope it'll be enough."

"Sure wish Hershel was here right now," Daryl sighed.

"Wait, ol' vet, he was on our side, right?" Merle asked, a doubtful expression on his face.

"He's got one leg, man, he can't come out this far without anyone else. No one else is gon' care if she dies," Daryl sighed sadly. "We gotta do it ourselves."

"Aw, shit, baby brother," Merle said, his only working hand gingerly pressing against Harleigh's forehead. "We gotta act fast."

Merle gave Daryl simple instructions as the younger of the two began hacking away at the dead flesh and muscle. Daryl couldn't believe that it got no reaction from the woman. She was completely still, her eyes closed, her breathing coming in uneven gasps. Once all the dead flesh was removed, Merle told Daryl to stitch it together as best he could. Daryl did so with careful hands. Once finished, Merle went up to the second floor of the cabin in search of something that could be used to dress the wound. A few minutes later, he returned with a clean bandage.

Once the wound was dressed, they waited. It was all they could do. Merle started to complain about how Harleigh was slowing them down, how the two of them should just leave and say fuck it, but Daryl would have none of it. He defended the woman until Merle finally backed off. The cabin grew silent after that, the only sound coming from Harleigh's weak, raspy breaths.

* * *

Glenn looked over at Maggie, who was still pissed about the whole situation. She wouldn't say it out right, but she had made it very clear that she hadn't agreed with the group's decision. Carl, on the other hand, openly made his opinion known.

"Are you stupid?" he had screamed at his father, his hands balled into fists. "Sending them away like that? Are you that fucking stupid?"

"Enough!" Rick said tiredly. The entire situation had worn the ex-sheriff out. "Enough."

"We did what we had to," Glenn said confidently, earning him a hateful glare from Maggie.

"We acted rashly," Hershel mussed. "We should have taken more time to discuss this."

"There wasn't time, Hershel, there's never enough time!" Rick boomed.

"I'm going after them," Michonne said lightly, her eyes narrow. "They're better people than you lot are." That was the most the mysterious woman had said since returning to the prison. Rick glared at her but made no move to stop her. Deep down, he knew it would have been pointless.

Michonne left without another word, taking to the trees with ease and skill. It didn't take her long to pick up on their trail.

It took the whole day to finally reach the point where the motorcycle had collided with the van. Michonne's first instinct was that they were dead, or at least injured, but at closer inspection, she realized they all must have made it out in one piece. Or so she hoped.

To her left, she heard the sound of something growling. She drew her katana, her stance guarded. She blinked when the familiar looking dog, drenched in blood, came limping towards her. The red reflector was gripped in his mouth. Michonne's attention shifted. Something wasn't right. She could feel it.

"Where are they?" she hissed to the dog, who looked at her with hopeful eyes before limping off into the trees. It was then that she saw the deep, open wound in the dog's side. There was no way that dog should still be standing. Michonne shook her head in amazement. Now she understood why Harleigh kept that dog close. That dog wouldn't die till she did. She followed him through the trees, her pace quickening as she picked up a messy, easy to follow trail. Wherever they were, they had went there in a hurry. It made her even more uneasy to know they had to travel on foot. Harleigh was still injured, though she masked it well, and that little girl couldn't go for more than a few hours at a time. As she followed the dog, her heart began to sink. There was no way they were all still alive. She had a sick feeling she wasn't going to like what she stumbled upon.

* * *

**A/n – I couldn't sleep so you all got another chapter outta me, how's that? :D Anyway, haha, yeah had to give you guys a little taste of what was going on in the prison. And because I've always been a faithful Michonne fan, of course I had to send her off to be with the rebels. :) Let me know what you all think! Keep in mind, italics are used for flashbacks/dreams. :) **


	17. Chapter 16 - Unlikely Heroes and Regrets

Daryl was restless. He kept pacing the room, even after Merle told him off for it. He didn't care. All he cared about was Harleigh getting better. If it hadn't been for Merle's loud mouth, none of them would be in this situation to begin with.

A loud knocking stopped him mid-stride. He froze, his crossbow in his hand a moment later.

"Don't shot!" a familiar female voice came. Merle and Daryl exchanged a look as a very tired, very unlikely guest opened the door. Michonne stepped in, followed by Riley, who was wheezing heavily.

"He can't be alive," Merle muttered in amazement, eyeing the dog carefully. "We saw him get killed."

"Obviously not," Michonne shrugged. Her eyes fell on Harleigh who was still out cold. "What the hell happened?"

"Damn dog o'er there decided to play hero," Merle spat, ending his explanation with a rainbow of choice words. "Damn near killed her when she collided with the van."

"Why's she still out? Head injury?" she asked before her eyes caught sight of the blood on the couch. "Was she…?"

"She wasn't bit," Daryl assured her. "She reopened an old wound, it got infected," he continued, looking at Harleigh's sleeping form. "Had to uh…cut the infection out."

"She's been like this for how long?" she asked, moving to inspect Harleigh. Daryl stepped aside but hovered protectively near her side.

"Almost a day and a half," he said softly.

"That long?" Michonne looked at him in shock. "Damnit Daryl, ya shoulda brought her back to the prison."

"How?" Merle asked sarcastically. "Van won't start and she sure as hell can't sit upright or hold on. Bike's totaled anyhow."

"Harleigh?" Michonne called softly, ignoring the older Dixon. "Leigh, you have to wake up." She ran her hand across Harleigh's cheek, shocked by how warm she was.

"She's burnin' up," she mused.

"Again?" Daryl asked, his voice hitching. His eyes were wide. Merle caught the look, his heart sinking. So his baby brother had a thing for the hardass Harleigh after all.

"I'm gon' go back and get help," Merle said suddenly, surprising both Michonne and Daryl.

"Ain't such a good idea," Michonne argued. "You're not exactly welcomed there. Neither is she," she sighed, throwing a look at Harleigh. "Where'd the kid?"

Both men were on their feet without another word. "She was supposed to wait in the kitchen!" Merle groaned, surveying the empty room.

"Where's Blade?" Daryl asked, looking for the large dog. Both brothers met up at the front door, clearly at a loss.

"You didn't see her when you came in?" Daryl asked Michonne, who looked at them with a worried look.

"No, but I know if Harleigh wakes up and that lil' girl is missing, you're both as good as dead," she said carefully. "That lil' girl is all she's got to fight for these days."

"I'm right here," came the sound of a little girl's pleased voice. Both brothers turned quickly, nearly tripping one another to reach the little girl who had just materialized out of thin air.

"Where the hell did you go?" Merle spat, sinking down to his knees so he could look at her. Blade stood heroically at her side.

"Back to the van," she said proudly. "Mommy needs meds," she said almost as if she were far older than just a few weeks shy of 4. She patted Blade's head. Attached to his back was a huge first aid kit.

"Holy shit," Daryl breathed, kneeling beside the dog. He pulled the pack free, his eyes widening when he saw what was inside.

"Mommy leaves a note in the bag," she informed him. Sure enough, there was a simple, easy to follow note.

**Emergency Kit**

**Someone better be dying if you're using this shit, got it?**

**Alana's O- not that it makes much a difference. I am too. Don't fuck that one up, okay? We're the universal donors. So don't go stickin' us with the wrong blood, okay?**

**Alana's allergic to peanuts, strawberries and bee stings. If she goes into anaphylactic shock, (if her throat swells due to an allergic reaction) there's a kit full of epi pens in the bottom of the bag.**

**If I'm out for the count for whatever reason, remember, I'm allergic to penicillin. DO NOT mix up the IVs. I don't wanna die due to someone else's mistake. Use cephalosporin instead. I've got about ****three**** eight rigs with it left. Use only if you honestly think it'll save me or someone else. **

**Too many big words for ya? Use the little pen with the needle in it if Alana's throat closes. Got it? Don't you dare stick me with anything that has a "cillin" attached to it. Unless ya plan to kill me. Opt for the "rin" endin' one instead. Oh, stop reading this like it's the craziest not ever ya fool. C'mon, times a wasting.**

Daryl smiled in spite of himself. He knew the note was recent. She must have tucked it in the bag while packing, in the event something was to happen. He quickly shuffled through the bag, his eyes scanning the labels for what he needed, while Michonne quickly wiped down Harleigh's arm.

"Thank god this woman plans ahead," she mused as she brushed her hand over Harleigh's forehead. "She's smart."

"So's her kid," Merle muttered. "How'd you go off by your lonesome anyhow?"

"Mommy taught me how to follow tracks," she shrugged. The little girl looked up at the older man with a proud look. "Said I might need ta know one day."

"Your mom's a smart lady," Merle said at the same time Daryl said "Thank god." He pulled free the IV rig, thankful that Harleigh had thought ahead and had the antibiotics already mixed in the bag. He handed it to Michonne who quickly hooked it up, hanging the bag on the old hat rack.

Then they waited. There was nothing else they could do. Alana seemed tired, so Merle settled down on the floor, letting the little girl curl up in his lap, her head resting comfortably on his chest. Blade made himself comfortable on the floor at their feet, his eyes never leaving the little girl, who seemed so much older than she really was.

Michonne retired to the armchair, her katana sitting across her lap. Her eyes focused on the door, her stance ready for anything.

It was Daryl who was restless. He paced back and forth, his eyes never leaving Harleigh's body. He wanted to curse himself for letting her get this sick. He blamed himself for the little girl running off by herself. What if she'd been killed? How could he live with knowing it was because they were too busy tending to her mother?

_Stop it, Daryl_, the voice in the back of his head commanded. Right now, Harleigh needed him to be strong. For her, for her daughter, and most of all, for himself.

* * *

"I can't believe you let her leave!" Carl said defensively, glaring at his father.

"What did you want me to do?" Rick shouted. He was sick and tired of his son's outbursts.

"You could have made her stay! You could have made them all stay!" he growled.

"Enough, Carl," Hershel said quickly, attempting to end the argument that had been going on since the group left the prison. "Enough." Carl stomped off, his hands balled into fists. He was pissed.

Maggie was rocking Judith, her eyes full of anger. She was hoping the little girl could calm her down, but she didn't, instead, she fueled the fire even more. Daryl had cared so much about this little baby, and now he'd never see her grow all. All because Rick was too goddamned stubborn to open his eyes.

Glenn knew Maggie was upset, but he didn't know what to say to her. He was right there along with the rest rallying for Rick to send Merle on his way. He found himself questioning his judgment. Maybe having Merle around wouldn't have been such a bad thing.

It was Carol who noticed the oncoming danger. A large herd was making its way to the fence, clearly attracted by something. She ran back into the prison, screaming for the others, but it was no use. Before she even reached the cell block, the first of the shots rang out.

* * *

**A/n - Oh, shit's about to hit the fan now! I realize Alana speaks a little too clearly for a three year old, but keep in mind, this is being told from a first/third person point of view, therefore, if, say, this was a movie, obviously her words would be a bit more jumbled. But since it's not, it's more like this is what her words are translating to. Also, she's bright for such a young girl. Remember, Carl was super young when TWD started, and he was far past his years in everything but that. **

**Anywhoooo. Another update for you lovely people. Let me know what you think!**


	18. Chapter 17 - We Don't Turn on Our Own

The prison group barely had time to react. They were under attack and they knew wholeheartedly who was to blame.

"Everyone, c'mon!" Rick called, not missing a beat, much to the surprise of his friends. Glenn and Maggie ran out into the guard tower, trying to spot their attackers. But it was hopeless. Woodbury wasn't that stupid. They were tucked behind trees and bushes, using walkers as decoys, making it almost impossible for anyone to get a clear shot. The fence was slowly caving under the weight of the added walkers.

"There's hundreds of them!" Maggie moaned, pressing her head into Glenn's shoulder.

"I know," he muttered, regretting instantly for siding with the wrong side of the group.

Rick was silently cursing himself for banishing his most dangerous group members. He knew instantly that it would have been Harleigh, Merle, Michonne and Daryl out there in the midst of the fighting had he not so stupidly sent the away. He looked into the distance, his eyes locking on something only he could see.

"Rick, what do you wanna do?" Carol called, her arms protectively wrapped around Carl's shoulders. The young boy looked at his father in disbelief. Rick said nothing, just stared vacantly into space. "Rick? Rick!"

* * *

I was overly aware of someone poking and prodding at my side. I groaned, my nose crinkling against the sensation. I began to wiggle under whoever's grip.

"Harleigh?" a woman's voice called. I instantly froze. Something wasn't right. Why was there a woman hovering? I forced my eyes open, my hands instinctively looking for something to use as a weapon.

"Easy, Leigh," Daryl's calm tone soothed my tension. I turned my head, catching sight of Michonne, who had taken a step back, giving me space to readjust. Daryl's hand clasped down on mine, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Hey, Leigh," he smiled.

"Ouch," I muttered, the room spinning ever so slightly. This time it was different. This time, the spinning sensation passed quickly, leaving me feeling more lucid than I had been in what felt like forever.

"Is she a'right?" Merle's voice asked. I turned my head, smiling at the older man. He cocked his head before flashing me a grin. "Well, now that's a sight for sore eyes."

"Shove it, Dixon," I said hoarsely, a smile now playing on my lips. "How long was I out?"

"Almost a week," Michonne informed me. "Thankfully your little girl and her dog knew what to get to help ya out."

"Alana?" I asked, grinning at the sound of my daughter's happy voice.

"Mommy!"

The next thing I knew, tiny hands were around my neck, a very teary little girl hugging me with all her strength.

"Lana," I smiled, kissing the side of her face.

The entire mood of the room seemed to change when I stood up carefully, an arm wrapped around Michonne's shoulders. She led me up to the bathroom, helping me keep from tearing the stitches all over again.

"You're tough, ya know that?" she chuckled as she waited outside the door.

"Uh-huh, been getting that a lot lately," I laughed. I spared a glance out the window, something catching my eye. Something that didn't belong. "Shit!"

"Are you okay? Need me to come in there?" Michonne called.

"I'm fine," I said, turning all too quickly. My balance was still off and having spun so quickly, I wound up on the floor. I groaned, pressing my eyes shut long enough to steady my vision before clambering to my feet, my hands searching blindly for something to grip onto.

"Michonne?" I called, still swaying. Next thing I knew, I was on the floor again, this time with the mysterious woman standing over me, calling for help. Another minute passed. My vision returned to normal in time to see Daryl rushing through the door, his arms around me as he picked me up. "Stop," I said against his chest. "Look out the window and tell me what's wrong with that picture." Dumbfounded, Daryl did as he was told, all with me still in his arms. I hated feeling so useless. I knew it would take time for the antibiotics to fully fight off the infection, even longer for me to regain my strength, but in that moment, I felt completely helpless.

"We're being watched," Daryl said grimly. Michonne joined us at the window, a look of disgust forming on her face.

"Rick?" she asked, looking at Daryl and I.

"No," I said carefully. I surveyed the scene once more. "This is too careful," I looked at the way the bush was bent. No, this hadn't been Rick or anyone from the prison.

"Governor?" she tried again. This time, I nodded.

"I'm almost sure of it," I said with a sigh. "But it could be a red herring," I countered. "A set up."

"You mean…?" Daryl started.

"The prison might be in danger," I finished his thought with a grim nod. The three of us made our way back downstairs. Once I was back on the couch and no longer a danger to myself, we filled Merle in on the scene outside. Merle's face darkened at the news.

"Like hell if ya think we're going back," he grumbled.

"We aren't," I said carefully. "Y'all are gon' stay put," I clarified. "I, on the other hand, owe it to them to at least check it out."

"Ain't owe them nothing Leigh, open your eyes, they let you walk just like that!" Merle spat.

"I know," I shrugged. "But so did you. An' I went back for you."

"You knew Merle would be there," Daryl mused, looking at me with sad eyes. "When we went for Glenn and Maggie."

"I'd hoped," I nodded. "Merle was one of the good guys there. Him and a handful of others. We just got lucky 'nough that his head wasn't up his ass when we got there."

"Hey!" Merle growled.

"Is for horses," I said out of old habits. I smirked up at the older man, the smile reaching my eyes, earning a grin from Michonne and Daryl.

"Enough small talk," Daryl said quickly, the mood once more turning serious. "We have to do something."

"He's right," I said, shoving my head into my hands. I took several deep breaths before looking up.

"We have to do something. It's not Rick or Glenn or Carol I'm worried about. It's the others. Judith, Carl, Beth. They're all kids still," I said, my eyes filling with tears. "One thing I refuse to change 'bout who I was 'fore all this started, is I won't stand by and let innocent children die."

"Beth's not a kid anymore," Daryl pointed out.

"Regardless," I shrugged. "I'm going back. You two," I nodded at Merle and Daryl "Head in whatever direction your hearts lead you. But leave some sort of signs. I'll meet up with ya if I'm alive after all this shit blows over."

"Ain't leaving you behind," Daryl said sternly. I glared at him but allowed it.

"Then we're all going back?" I implied. Merle grumbled something under his breath about us being morons, but didn't argue. I nodded once and forced myself to my feet. Daryl hovered next to me while I retrieved the bag of medical supplies.

"Alana, I want you to make a run to the van, right? Straight shot. Merle's gon' be right behind you," I told my little girl.

"But mommy," she looked at me with fearful eyes.

"Honey, if I can't make it to the van on my own, there's no point in me going back to the prison. But I need you to be brave, alright? Do like I say and get to the van. Blade'll be right next to you," I said, choosing my words carefully.

"Van won't start," Daryl reminded me in a hushed tone.

"I know," I said softly. "You'll take a look at it when we get to it. I need'ta get something done first."

"What?" he asked, his voice soft. Michonne was too busy gathering anything we could make use of, while Merle took the bag and was ushering Alana out of the front door. After Michonne took off, I turned to Daryl, forcing myself to look like I had a backup plan if this all hit the fan.

"Listen, if something happens out there, your first concern is yourself and Merle and my little girl, ya hear me?" I said softly. "Don't worry about me. If I'm gonna die, I wanna die like this, not laying on a couch somewhere with y'all worrying about every breath I take."

"Ya ain't gonna die," Daryl argued.

"I hope you're right," I nodded. "But if you're wrong, you have to promise me something."

"Anything," he said, his features softening, the hardass exterior finally gone.

"Promise me you'll look after my little girl," I whispered, my voice hitching. "I need to know you'll be there for her."

"Alright," he nodded. I nodded, satisfied with his answer. Together, we left the cabin and hurried through the trees. My pace faltered a few times, but I forced myself to keep going. When we reached the van with no problems, not even a single walker, Daryl quickly went to work on the motor while I slid in the front seat, my heart racing in my chest.

"Mommy, are we gonna die?" Alana asked me, fear written all over her face.

"No, honey, we're not," I said firmly. "We're going on a little rescue mission, then we'll be all safe and sound by nighttime," I vowed. I knew I shouldn't make a promise I couldn't keep, but how do you tell a child that you're almost certain you won't live to see sunset?

Michonne climbed into the back seat, pushing Blade out of the way.

"How're you feeling?" she asked me, her face full of concern.

"Better than the last few days," I said truthfully. "But still not 100 percent."

"If it comes down to a fight…" Michonne let the statement fall, overly aware of the little girl sitting beside her.

"Then we do what we have to," I said firmly. "All for one and one for all," I shrugged. Michonne nodded, understanding what I meant. After what felt like an eternity, the van purred to life. Merle grinned his sly grin before climbing into the back seat with Michonne and Alana. Blade growled softly, clearly annoyed by the tight seating arrangements.

"Blade, up front," I said to the dog. He jumped over the seat, his claws digging painfully into my thigh. I pushed him onto the floor in front of me, smiling when he tried to snap at my hands.

"What about Riley mommy?" Alana asked.

"Riles is gone, honey," I said softly, turning so I could look at her. "He pushed himself to stay alive long enough to bring Michonne to us. He served his purpose."

Tears welled in her eyes as my words sank in. I patted her knee before focusing on the road in front of us. Daryl wasted no time, speeding down the road with little caution or care. The closer we got to the prison, the tenser the van became.

* * *

**A/n - Okay, so originally, I was going to send someone out to beg for the group to return and help with the threat at the prison, but I decided against it, for now at least. The next chapter is when things get a bit hairy. Try to keep in mind the times lapse. Harleigh's been in and out of a coma like state for at least a week, whereas the events at the prison took place on the 3rd or 4th day. ;) That helps with the next chapter a lot.**

**Also, the little "Calm before the storm" scene was important. I wanted to form some unlikely bonds, and who better than the Dixons, plus a hardheaded huntress, a mysterious Samurai warrior chick, a little girl and a stray dog? Haha, plus, I like writing Merle as a softer character, but alas, that too has to change soon. :D Merle can't stay a soft sweetheart forever! As much as I wish he could! **

**Oh, a minor warning/spoiler. The next few chapters are fairly dark, and include character deaths, blood, guts, and gore. Also a little abuse from the eldest Dixon is on the way. So if stuff like that bothers you, turn back now. Things are about to get real hairy, real fast. Cheers! **


	19. Chapter 18 - And They All Fell Down

We didn't get close enough to the prison when we saw the chaos unfolding in the distance. Several tunnels of smoke were filling the sky with dark grey clouds. The amount of walkers had tripled. The herd had the road packed so tightly, it was impossible to even consider getting through the thick of it.

Daryl slammed on the breaks, veering the van into the trees, nearly throwing the rest of us from of seats.

We had to act fast, otherwise the van would have been our tomb. I threw a panicked look at Merle, who quickly had Alana out of the seat and on his lap. I reached around and grabbed the first aid kit, not willing to leave it behind. Aside from that, we all grabbed the first weapons out hands could reach before making a run for it.

I didn't get far before I felt the now familiar sensation of blood flowing freely from my side. We had been split up by the walkers who were now turning their attention to the smell of fresh blood. I groaned and threw myself onto a tree, reaching numbly for the branches overhead. I pulled myself up, using all my strength to put a safe distance between the walkers and myself. Breathless, I looked around, trying to spot my friends.

Michonne had been closest to me and was now making her way back, her katana taking out the walkers with ease, but they were quickly replaced by the countless others in the herd. I riffled through the bag, trying to find the one weapon that might serve a purpose. To my amazement, it was right there all along. Three grenades, which I had stolen from Woodbury before leaving the first time.

When Michonne made it to the tree I was perched in, I spared her a knowing look. She saw the bomb in my hand, a single nod offered before she ducked behind the tree, waiting for the explosion. I removed the pin and slammed my thumb on the lever. I tried to make out where the brothers and Alana had taken off to, but the walkers were too thick to see through. I took a deep breath, channeling all of my training into that one, single grenade. I used all my strength to throw it into the midst of the herd. A moment later, the explosion went off, sending me flying from the tree. Thankfully, I landed in a patch of leaves and didn't feel the impact all that much.

I was on my feet the second Michonne reached me. She threw an arm around my waist, having seen the blood pooling from my side. Together, we made for the prison in hopes we'd be able to salvage whatever was left. Alana's shrill scream brought us both to a halt before we'd even made it a hundred feet.

"Alana!" I called out, fear rising in my chest. Her screams continued to our right. We took off without sparing a word to one another, each lost in their own survival mode. When we reached the little girl, I was stunned to see Merle standing protectively over her, his eyes wild as he swiped and stabbed at the oncoming walkers.

"Back to back?" I asked Michonne in a strained tone. She nodded once and with the other at each other's backs, we made it to the pair, taking out countless walkers in our haste.

"Alana, talk to me," I said softly, keeping my back pressed against Michonne's. Alana looked terrified but didn't say a word. Her eyes were locked on Merle, her sole protector. Merle was covered in blood and dirt. His face was pale and emotionless. It was the first time I got a real good look at the man the prison had been so eager to banish.

"Merle?" I called softly, earning no response from the older man. "Merle!"

He said nothing, just turned and looked at me with distant, faraway eyes. I saw the panic creeping up on his face, but wasn't prepared for what he did next.

* * *

My body felt like it was on fire. The pain was intense, worse than anything I'd ever felt before. Worse than childbirth. Worse than being in that car wreck when I was 17. Worse than being mulled by that stupid dog when I was 5. No, this pain was even worse than the pain Woodbury caused me.

Michonne was shouting something above me, her katana pressed against Merle's throat. Alana was wailing at my side, her screams calling all the walkers in the area over to us. I felt familiar, rough hands on my face, blue eyes coming into view. I felt Daryl lift my limp body up against his. I wasn't able to react. The pain was just too unreal.

Daryl's posture shifted and that was when I saw it. The pool of blood. My blood? But how could that even be possible? How could I have lost that much blood from that stupid cut in my side? It wasn't that deep. It wasn't that serious. Sure, the infection caused a lot of problems, but it shouldn't have bled that much.

Then it came back to me.

"_Merle?" I called softly, earning no response from the older man. "Merle!"_

_He said nothing, just turned and looked at me with distant, faraway eyes. I saw the panic creeping up on his face. I couldn't react in time as he leveled the knife with my daughter's throat. Neither could Michonne, who was busy trying to ward off the walkers. The next thing I knew was pain. The worst pain I'd ever felt in my entire life. The pain of my heart being ripped from my chest as my little girl fell to the ground, blood pooling from her throat. Her eyes went blank as life left her body. I fell beside her, my hands gripping at her tiny body, my fingers twitching in effort to stop the blood. But it was hopeless. Within a minute's time, she was dead. She was as dead as I felt as I protectively laid over her, not caring that I was the easiest target in the world._

"I could gut you like a fish right here and now!" Michonne growled, her katana pushing dangerously against his throat.

"No," I moaned, unable to do much else. "Not…worth…it."

"Harleigh?" Daryl looked down at me, his blue eyes full of fear. I stared back at him, unable to fully wrap my head around what was happening. Then I saw her, my little girl. Lying in a pool of her own blood. Her body broken and cold. I reached for her hand but Daryl refused to let me move from his arms.

Because at that same instance, the little girl began to stir. A low, gurgling moan escaped her lips as she sat up, her eyes red and bloodshot. Her little hands reached for me.

Had it not been for Michonne, I probably would have let her kill me. Because to me, she was still my little girl. She was still my daughter.

* * *

"Is that Michonne?" Maggie cried, looking out through the down gate. They were all tucked safely in the prison, having cleared out the walkers that had pushed their way in after the Governor's attack.

"Is it?" Beth asked, shielding her eyes against the sunlight.

"It is!" Maggie cried. "Rick! Rick, they're back!" She shouted, running towards the entrance to the prison.

"Maggie, hang on!" Glenn called, chasing after her.

It didn't matter. Michonne was leading the way through the walkers, her katana flying in every direction to fend off the dangers that surrounded them. Daryl led Harleigh through the mess of bodies. She had an emotionless look on her face as she walked, her body rigid, her skin ice cold to the touch. Daryl spared one glance back at his crazed brother. They couldn't leave him out in the woods to fend for himself in the state he was in, but Daryl, his own flesh and blood, hated the man more than ever for what he had just done.

Once the exhausted group made their way into the prison yard, they began to take in the damage. As Harleigh had predicted, Michonne knew this was the work of the Governor. She took a protective step in front of Harleigh, blocking the stunned woman's view.

They didn't need to wait when they reached the front of the prison. Maggie had the door open faster than Glenn could close it. Maggie pushed past Michonne and hugged Daryl in spite of herself, causing the tense redneck to flinch sideways, losing his grip on Harleigh's arm. Without him supporting her, her knees gave way and she sank into the bloody soil. Daryl growled at Maggie and pushed her aside to reach Harleigh, who was staring ahead, her eyes showing no sign of the life she had moments before.

"What happened?" Maggie asked, her eyes wide as she looked from Daryl, back to Merle who stood a good distance away, his face vacant.

"We could ask you the same," Michonne said quickly before anything was said about Merle's uncanny outburst. Harleigh didn't even move when Daryl reached for her arms. She was staring off into the distance, her eyes trailing something no one else saw right away.

"Carol," she moaned, her eyes flashing with an uncertain spark as she allowed Daryl to haul her to her feet.

"What?" Daryl asked her, following her gaze. When his eyes trained on the object of her statement, he felt like he was punched in the stomach. All air left his lungs as he watched the woman he once spent so much time protecting, stumble towards them, her eyes wide, her face as pale as Harleigh's, her body covered in blood.

"Carol," Harleigh said again, this time pulling away from Daryl, her knife drawn before he could protest. "C'mere Carol," she called louder, leading the woman away from her friends. The woman's moans were heard by all as Harleigh led her into the middle of the field, her hands at her side. Carol lunged at her, causing Daryl to push forward, only to stop when he saw the broken woman had it under control. Carol went for her throat, but Harleigh had foreseen the attack. She grabbed Carol's thin arms and pushed her back, her free hand plunging the knife deep into her skull, causing the older woman to slump against her chest, pushing her to the ground. Harleigh didn't struggle. She just laid there, the corpse of the woman who hated her weighing her down.

"Go get her," Michonne whispered to Daryl. "She's gonna go into shock at any moment. Today's been too much for her," she looked back at Merle before looking at Harleigh. "It's been too much for all of us."

Without need for anything else to be said, Daryl quickly went over to Harleigh, pulling Carol's dead body from hers before scooping the bloody, broken woman up in his arms, pulling her securely against his chest. Maggie bit back a sob as she watched, her eyes full of tears. The rest of the prison group had filed out of the prison, each with a look of sadness on their faces. All except Rick, who seemed to be channeling Harleigh's pain, his eyes locked in the distance, as if he was watching someone no one else could see.

No one dared speak as Daryl carried Harleigh into the prison, taking her right to Hershel, who began assessing her condition silently. Daryl slumped against the wall, rubbing his face with his hands, looking utterly exhausted. It was a wonder he had even kept his head given everything that had happened. But Harleigh brought out the good in his heart. Without realizing it, he silently promised himself to tell her how he felt. Because she needed him. She needed him just as much as he needed her.

* * *

**A/n - *runs and hides* Don't kill me! I promise, I didn't intentionally kill off Alana, it just kind of had to happen! The alternative would have brought the entire story to a very sudden end, which I didn't want! Merle had to go crazy at some point - we'll find out why very soon. **

**So, what do you all think? *shivers* Told you, things were about to get very dark, very fast!**


	20. Chapter 19 - Revelation

Hershel had demanded that all debates were put on hold until I was well enough to sit through them, both physically and emotionally. He had restitched my side, in hopes this time, I wouldn't put the stitches out and was in the process of hooking an IV to my arm when Beth walked past my cell with baby Judith in her arms. The infant was wailing loudly, her cries reminding me so much of the little girl I had just lost.

"Beth," Hershel scolded. He glanced at me, waiting to see how I took it. I surprised him by looking at Beth with hopeful eyes.

"Can I…," I cleared my throat. "Can I hold her?" I asked. Beth looked at her father before handing the crying child to me. I held Judith to my chest, Daryl watching from where he sat across the room. I pushed myself back on the bed, so my back was resting against the wall, as I sat Judith up so I could look into her eyes.

"You're gonna save us all one day, aren't you, lil' ass kicker?" I asked the baby, who seemed to calm down as soon as she was in my arms. "You're gonna be one hardass with all these people raising you," I cooed, kissing the baby's forehead. "Yes you are. You're one of the innocent ones left," I whispered. Tears well in my eyes as I looked at the baby. Her little dimples made my heart break into a million pieces. Beth hovered protectively, ready to snatch the baby from my grip at a moment's notice. The room tilted slightly when I took my eyes off the baby, but as soon as our gazes met again, everything seemed to come back into focus.

I looked at the little girl, my heart finally coming to terms with everything that had happened. I nodded for Beth to take the baby back before forcing myself to my feet.

"Just where do you think you're going?" Hershel scolded, his rough hand on my arm.

"I need to sort something out before it gets out of hand," I said softly. "I won't be gone for long."

"You shouldn't go anywhere alone right now, Harleigh," he scolded.

"I won't be going alone," I sighed. I looked around the common room and found who I was going to bring with me. "Michonne, I need a favor," I called down to her. She looked up and nodded, hurrying up the stairs, reaching me in record time.

"What's up?" she asked, her eyes icy as always.

"What did Rick do with Merle?" I asked, my voice hitching on his name.

"Rick didn't do nothing," Daryl spoke up. "I knocked his sorry ass out and left him in the farthest cell down there."

"Good," I nodded. "He should be coming to soon," I added. "Stay here and get some rest," I told my favorite person at that moment. "I'll be back soon."

"What're ya gon' do?" he asked hoarsely.

"I'm going to kick a dog while he's down," I shrugged. I grabbed my knife from where it sat on the table before starting down the stairs, my free hand pressed protectively on my wound. I was overly aware of how much it hurt to move. I was also aware that Michonne was carrying the IV bag, holding it above my head so it was still dripping correctly.

"You don't have to do this right now," she said gently as she followed me past the stares of the very people who forced me away in the first place. "It can wait till you're better, till everything's settled down."

"No it can't," I sighed, turning so I was facing her. "I know Merle. I'd like to think I know him better than most do. Merle's a lot of things, but he's not a monster. Even with lack of good judgment, he would never kill a child in cold blood."

"What're you suggesting then? We all saw him…you know…" she was careful with her words.

"He had to have had a reason. And I won't be able to rest until I know what that reason was," I said softly. Glenn glared at me, clearly having heard Merle's name.

We hurried past the group stopping only when we were right in front of Merle's cell. He was handcuffed to the bed, an unexplainable expression on his worn out face. I nodded at Michonne, who had gotten the key off Rick in passing. She unlocked the cell and waited for me to enter. I knelt beside the man I had trusted with my daughter, my entire body going cold just looking at him.

"Merle," I said softly, my tone flat. He blinked and looked at me, his blue eyes shining with sadness.

"I didn't wanna do it," he whispered. For the first time since meeting him, Merle seemed weaker than anyone I'd ever met. He seemed broken, like a dog that'd been kicked too many times. "I didn't wanna. I had to."

"Why?" I asked, my voice barely reaching a whisper. "Why Merle?"

"She was bit."

His words sent me reeling. Michonne placed a hand on my shoulder, her best attempt to keep me grounded. The floor slipped in and out of view and soon I found myself struggling to breathe. I vaguely heard Michonne call for Hershel.

"I'm okay," I breathed, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. "How?" I asked Merle, my vision still foggy.

"When we broke the trees. I…I tried to get to her in time, I did, goddamnit, I did," Merle moaned, his voice hitching in his throat. "I didn't wanna do it."

"You…you didn't aim for the head," I whispered, trying to piece it all together. "You slit her throat."

"I couldn't…I couldn't, Leigh, I couldn't be the 'un to take her from you," he whispered. I felt his free hand reach for mine. I allowed it, as much as I hated the man, I allowed it. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"She was bit," I repeated the words. "She was bit. Just like Carol. Just like everyone else. They…he…" I couldn't focus on what I was saying. I felt sick. I felt utterly helpless.

Hershel reached us before I could completely express myself. He took one look at me and demanded I returned to my cell. Michonne pulled me to my feet, wrapping her arm around my waist, shooting a single look at Merle. A look that said what I couldn't. She led me away from the man that had murdered my daughter. Or saved her from dying a long and painful death. It all depended how you looked at it. In that moment, I saw nothing but a broken, beaten man who killed a child in cold blood. But I knew, deep down, as time wore on and the wounds began to heal, that I wouldn't see him that way. I knew in time, I'd be able to forgive him. Because he didn't murder my daughter. No. In a long and twisted way, it was Rick who had killed my daughter. Or the Governor. Or myself, for being so defensive, so protective of people I owed nothing to. But it wasn't Merle's fault. He did it to spare her the pain.

As soon as Michonne dropped me onto the bunk, the world fell out from under me. The shock set in and soon, I felt nothing but numb. There was no way to express what I was feeling any longer, because I felt nothing. Not when Daryl tried to coax me back to him. Not when Hershel demanded to know what was going on in my head. Not when Glenn threatened to put a bullet in Merle's skull. Nothing could shake the dark cloud that had fallen around me. Around us. Nothing was ever going to be the same again.

* * *

**A/n - Don't hate meeee!**

**mrskaz453 - I never did say how Carol got bit though. ;) That comes in the next chapter, when the prison group explains what happened to Daryl, Michonne and Harleigh. I think you're going to like it a lot. **

**As for Merle killing Alana - it's explained in this chapter. It goes deeper in the next few chapters, as to what EXACTLY happened, but that's another chapter or two from now. :D Alana's death will ultimately bring Harleigh closer to Daryl too. And when -refuses to spoil- happens, it'll make for a better story. Alana was a pawn from the beginning, originally, it was supposed to be Harleigh's biological son, but I didn't think it fit as well. ;) **

**I want to thank everyone who's stuck around this long! I can promise you all this much, there is plenty more where this came from. The next few chapters include flashbacks to the attack, memories from several survivors points of view, and a lot of craziness. Who's going to fall off the deep end? You'll have to stick around to find out! (Also, semi slower updates soon - I work the next 5 nights, so bear with me! xD)**


	21. Chapter 20 - Here's Where We Begin

The days passed quickly, each one seemingly easier than the last. Hershel assured me that in time, I would find it in my heart to forgive Merle. I wasn't sure if I believe him or not, but I did everything in my power to try and find peace with the man that ultimately took my daughter from me.

It was almost a week after everything had happened that Hershel deemed me well enough to sit through one of the debates, as long as everyone was mature and acted as adults should. Daryl and I filed out of the cell in silence, his arm wrapped protectively around my waist as we slowly joined the others in the common room.

"You don't have to do this," he whispered in my ear. "You've done enough for Merle."

"I want to do this," I replied in a shaking voice. "He didn't do it out of cold blood."

"Rick's not going to see it that way," he responded.

"He will if we make him," I disagreed. We silenced our conversation as the group assembled in the middle of the room. Glenn carried a chair out for me to sit in, since I was still too weak to stand for too long.

Sad looked passed around the group. Over the last week, everyone had made it known how much they regretted their decisions. But who wouldn't? We'd lost some great people when the shit hit the fan, no thanks to poor leadership decisions.

"Before we get into the matter at hand, I want to speak in favor of the entire group," Rick said slowly, his eyes training on Daryl, Michonne and me. "I'm sorry."

"Apologies aren't going to change what is, Rick," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "If we had been here, we wouldn't have lost Carol or Alana. Fuck, we probably wouldn't be overrun by walkers right now either."

"Easy," Daryl warned in my ear.

"You're right," Rick said slowly. "As for Carol, you weren't here. You don't know what happened in her last moments."

"Excuse me?" I said, my eyes widening.

"Glenn, fill them in," Rick said, turning on his heel, either overwhelmed with emotion, which I doubted, or truly ashamed.

Glenn looked at the three of us with sad eyes, before looking at his feet.

"Carol would still be alive if it wasn't for the argument that happened before she bolted," he sighed.

* * *

"_Rick! Glenn!" she shouted, running through the twisting hallways up to cell block C. Her heart was racing in her chest as she slammed through the door, her eyes frantically searching for the men she had put all her trust in. _

"_Rick! Glenn!" She cried._

"_We know!" Glenn shouted as he ran to her side. "Did you see who did this?"_

"_The Governor?" Maggie suggested, grabbing her gun, making sure it was loaded._

"_I don't think he'd attack in broad daylight," Carol shook her head. "Merle and Harleigh maybe?" _

"_No," Glenn said, shaking his head. "There's no way Daryl would let them do this."_

"_Unless he turned against us too," she hissed. "Harleigh had him wrapped around her little finger."_

"_How can you even say that?" Maggie spat with disgust. "They're not killers, Carol!" _

"_How do we know that?" she retorted. "Harleigh was able to convince Daryl to leave, he told me so himself!"_

"_What?" Rick asked, coming into the conversation, his eyes wild. "Carol, are you insane? We're the reason they left!"_

"_Don't you see it?! This is exactly what they want! They want us at each other's throats!" she cried. "They want to weaken us so the Governor can take over the prison!"_

"_You really are a moron, Carol," Glenn said angrily. "There's no way they're to blame. I'd rather put my money on the Governor than our own!"_

"_They aren't part of us anymore!" she screamed. She advanced, her hands twitching into fists. _

"_Back up, Carol," Rick said, his tone bitter, his eyes glossed with something no one could understand._

_Then it happened. Carol sprang at Rick, her fist colliding with the side of his head. He responded by doing something he said he'd never do. He hit her. Hard. She flew back, her eyes wide. Without another word, she turned quickly and ran from the cell block. No one followed. They were all too stunned. So a moment later, when another bomb went off, they all broke off to protect the prison. They'd deal with Carol later._

_By the time the Governor pulled his men out, leaving behind a large herd of walkers in his wake, it was too late. Glenn found her first. Her body covered in cuts, chunks of meat missing from her body. She turned on him, her hands reaching for his body. _

_No one had the courage to end the poor woman. No one had the strength to put a bullet in her head. Not until Harleigh took on the task of ending the very woman who put the final nail in her coffin a week before. _

* * *

"She tried to blame us for the attack?" Daryl growled, his hands balling into fists.

"She was convinced Harleigh and Merle were still working for the Governor," Glenn sighed, looking at his feet.

"That's ridiculous," I said, shaking my head. "We were held up a few miles out. I was down for the count," I went on. "But what I don't understand is why the Governor attacked the prison but left the cabin unscratched. I mean, it's not like we covered our tracks."

"What do you mean?" Maggie asked, giving me a bewildered look.

"A…Alana was able to find her way back to the cabin and vice versa with no problem whatsoever. And she was barely 4 years old. There's no way the Governor and his men didn't know we were there," I said slowly. A thought occurred to me then, setting me up for a lot of trouble. "Unless…"

"Unless what?" Glenn asked, his expression hardening.

"I need the keys," I said to Daryl. Rick had handed the key to Merle's cell off to Daryl earlier in the week. Daryl gave me a concerned look but offered the keys anyway. I walked slowly towards the cell, not at all surprised that Merle was listening to our conversation.

"I had nothing to do with that!" he said loudly as soon as I came into sight.

"I'm not saying you did," I hissed. I slid into the cell, locking it behind me. "But you knew the Governor better than anyone. Is there anything, any reason, you could think of that would prevent him from attacking us on his way to or from the prison?"

Merle looked as if he were lost in thought for a long time and I almost decided to leave, having no energy to waste on his deliberation, but to my relief, he answered a few minutes later.

"No clue," he said simply, shaking his head.

"Fine," I nodded, leaving the man in his cell to rot away. I was still angry and hurt and being around Merle made everything feel all too real. I locked the cell behind me as I left, my head fuzzy with a fog that rarely left most days. Within seconds, I was overly aware of how much my side hurt and how exhausted I was. I leaned against the wall, not having the strength to cross the room.

"Harleigh, you good?" Glenn called from where he stood on the far side of the common room. His question caused Daryl to look up. I sank to the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees, taking deep breaths to calm the churning of my stomach. I knew I was just overwhelmed. I knew it was all the stress of worrying about another attack, topped with the loss of my daughter. It was still too much for me to handle. Now, matched with the news that Carol honestly thought Merle and I were to blame for the attack, it made everything that much worse.

I didn't realize Daryl had crossed the room until he was kneeling next to me, his arm around my shoulders, pulling me towards him. I sank into his chest, letting his warmth remind me of what good was left in the world, even if all that there was rested on one man.

"It's gonna be okay, Leigh," he promised me, resting his chin on the top of my head. "Everything's gonna be okay."

Against my better judgment, I believed him. What was it about that man? He could make me believe anything.


	22. Chapter 21 - Attack

It took time to bring myself to face Rick, the man who could be traced back to the very first days at the prison. The man who was ready to shoot me in the face, the man who was more than ready to send me on my way, even after I risked my life to save two of his own. But eventually, with Daryl always at my side, I found it in myself to face him.

Summer was fast approaching as I slowly made my way out of the prison. The yard had since been cleared, thanks to Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, Michonne and at times, Rick. Rick was still in and out of it, often times mumbling to an unseen force. For once, I knew where he was coming from. I often heard Merle talking to my dead daughter as if she stood right in front of him.

It had been a mutual decision to allow Merle to stay, under the condition that he was to never leave his cell alone. None of us argued with that, which was a relief, since none of us had much fight left in us. Michonne had willingly taken the responsibility of the broken man, without any kind of argument, which surprised us all. For me, it was a great relief, because I often found myself slowly slipping if Daryl wasn't close by. It wasn't a clingy sense, more of a lifeline. If Daryl was within reach, I was fine, I could function without breaking down, but if he was on a run or out on the fence, I found myself grieving in ways that were far from healthy.

Daryl followed behind me as I walked the fence, my fingers sometimes reaching for those of the dead, only for Daryl to gently pull me away. I knew he knew it was out of habit. Sometimes, just sometimes, I needed to be reminded of the world we now lived in. Blade trotted at my side, his long fur matted in countless places. When was the last time I'd brushed out the mats? Or better, when was the last time I even bothered to wash the blood from his coat? Days? Weeks? A month maybe? It'd been a long time.

Daryl was patient. He was always patient with me these days. He knew each day was bringing me closer to admitting the truth to myself. As we walked, I felt his stance change as we neared the little patch of grass. The resting place of those we'd lost. Glenn and Michonne had retrieved Alana's body later the week she had died. She was laid to rest next to Carol and Lori and T-Dog and all the others who had died since the group had joined the prison. A little cross with a pink ribbon tied around it was all I had to tell the difference between her spot and the others.

I knelt beside in, my hands tracing the wooden cross, my heart breaking into a million pieces as I remembered the little girl, so full of life and innocence, ripped from this world all too soon. I wanted to scream. I wanted to take all my anger and frustration out on someone, anyone. But I didn't. I let the tears fall, as I had so many times before, my hands gripping at nothingness. At the empty air in front of me.

Alana was dead. I had to come to terms with that before I'd ever really heal. But how does someone come to terms with the death of a child? An innocent, precious child.

Maybe, if Carol had been alive, she'd have been able to help me through it. Maybe, just maybe, she could have gotten through to me. But she too, was dead, like so many others. I wanted to say I grieved for her, but I didn't. Her death had no impact on me. Carol would always be the cruel, heartless woman in my mind, because that was all I knew. All I knew was Carol the bitch, I didn't know Carol, the kindhearted, loving woman the others spoke so fondly of. And it was sad, because maybe she really was a good person, under all that hate and despair. I'd never know.

After I finally stopped crying, I stood up slowly, my pace quickening as I saw Rick leave the prison, heading towards the fence with Glenn. I hurried over, Daryl at my heels, though he remained silent. I honestly think deep down, he wanted me to clear the air with Rick sooner, rather than later. He was in luck. That day was the day I decided to let the past stay in the past, once and for all.

At the same time as I reached Rick, Michonne came running out of the prison, her eyes wide. I turned to see what had caught her attention, but it was too late. The bullet came out of nowhere.

"Rick!" I cried out, throwing myself at the man. He looked startled when he heard his name, but by some stupid act of God or fate or whatever, I managed to tackle him to the ground before the bullet could hit him. He tried to throw me off him, unaware of the danger he had just been in, but thankfully, Michonne and Daryl were fast enough to spot the attacker.

"Woodbury!" Michonne shouted, pulling me to my feet. Rick clambered to his own, his eyes wide.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice husky and tired.

"Positive," she nodded.

"Blade, tunnel, now," I called to the dog. He immediately ran for the weakest part of the fence, where we had rigged a doggie door, in a sense, for him to be able to squeeze under in the event something happened. The dog took off like a bullet, growling loudly, his fur flying in every which way. Daryl tossed me his gun while he loaded his crossbow, his fingers twitching with anticipation. We'd been expecting an attack for weeks now.

The prison was soon alive with people trying to find the best point defense. Daryl and I backed behind the overturned bus, our chosen spot from day one. A little ways away stood Michonne, her stance guarded, her katana in her hands. The plan had been put into action for the first time since we discussed it a few weeks prior. Rick was posted near the farthest watch tower, the only one that still stood. Glenn was shielded by the Hyundai, while Maggie was inside with her father, sister, Carl and Judith.

Then it hit me. We were one man short. We needed Merle's strategy now more than ever.

"I'll be back," I hissed to Daryl.

"No," he mouthed, shaking his head. "No."

"We need Merle out here," I argued in a hushed tone. Bullets began to rain down on us. "He knows how the Governor thinks."

"You can't risk it!" he said softly, his tone urgent and strained.

"I have to."

I took off, darting between cars, using anything and everything as a shield. How I reached the prison in one piece was beyond me. The sound of a bomb going off was enough to tell me that we were in some deep shit. I hurried through the hallways, the key tightly gripped in my hand. I skidded to a stop in front of Merle's cell. He was looking at me with fearful eyes.

"Merle, we need you," I whispered, my hands shaking as I fought to open the cell. Merle put his good hand on top of mine, steadying my shaking fingers enough to unlock the cell. Then we took off. Merle stayed close as I once more led the way through the halls, out into the field. Then I saw it. The huge, army style truck.

"Walkers!" I shouted, ducking to avoid a stray bullet. "He's going to unload a truck load of walkers!"

Merle and I reached Daryl just as another bomb went off, this time, dangerously close to the bus.

"We have to move!" I panted, my lungs burning from running. "We have to regroup and come up with a new plan!"

"We can't!" Daryl practically screamed over the sound of the bullets pouring down on us. I had to jump back to avoid a well-placed bullet that would have otherwise taken off my head. I pressed tightly against the old bus, taking a deep breath to calm the racing of my heart.

"It's now or never, baby brother," Merle said grimly. I tossed him Daryl's cut while I loaded my bow, which I had retrieved when I went back for Merle. I used the tire of the bus for leverage as I took aim, my arrow whizzing through the air. I didn't wait to see if it made contact, instead, I loaded another arrow letting it loose, before tossing the bow aside. I removed my Colt from my boot, checked to make sure it was loaded, then stepped out from behind the bus, all concern for safety discarded. I used the walkers as body shields as I slowly made my way over to Rick, who was doubled over, breathing hard.

"You still with us Rick?" I called as I approached. He looked up, his eyes wild with fear, adrenaline and general concern. He nodded. I picked up my pace, weaving between the walkers, my heart pounding in my chest. I knelt beside Rick, fending off the few walkers who had taken notice to where we were hidden.

"We need a plan," he wheezed. Then I saw it. The bullet wound. He hand his hand pressed firmly against his shoulder. I blinked, shocked that the leader of the prison, our leader, was injured.

"Hang in there Rick," I said softly before standing, my gun level with the trees. I let loose a line of bullets before ducking down again, the bullets raining down around us.

"They're running!" Glenn's excited cry rang out.

_Don't get too excited, _I thought. Then I heard it. A cry that would chill me to the bone until the day I died.

It could have happened in slow motion for all I cared. For a single moment, there was silence, and then there wasn't. The loudest explosion I had ever witnessed rippled across the prison yard, followed by a pained cry from the one person I had been hoping to protect.

My instincts kicked in before I could stop myself. I protectively blocked Rick from the shards of debris that flew in our direction, but not before catching sight of Daryl being thrown against the bus, his face immediately going pale.

"Daryl!" I screamed over the ringing in my ears. My heart sank to the floor as I looked at the man, panic rising in my chest. "Daryl!"

* * *

**A/n - To clarify where in the series this chapter takes place, I'll say it's right before the Governor kills all his own people. Like I said before, I was very loosely following the actual story line.**

**Ooooh, cliff hanger! **


	23. Chapter 22 - Leave No One Behind

It took a moment for the initial shock to wear off. The explosion had all but leveled the prison. I tried to look around as the dust settled, but it was painful to even consider what I might see. The prison still stood, though it was clear the far wall was destroyed. My eyes lingered there only long enough to gather my bearings before turning my attention to the one man that meant more to me than anyone else.

"Daryl!" I cried, his pale skin looking even sicklier covered in dirt, blood and debris. He had been through against the bus, where he now laid limply, his hair standing in all directions. I almost got to my feet when I remembered Rick. Rick was laying at my side, his lips shaking, blood streaming through his fingers. There was no way he could move.

"Rick, hang in there, okay?" I hissed, placing a careful hand on his arm. "I'll be right back."

"I-is everyone o-okay?" he stammered.

"I don't know," I answered truthfully. I forced myself to my feet, overly aware of how exhausted my body felt. I grabbed my bow from where it landed under the car before slowly making my way over to Daryl, my eyes and ears alert to even the smallest movements.

As I neared, I vaguely wondered where Merle was. It seemed almost ironic that he was there one minute, then poof, in a swirl of smoke, he was gone. I took down the few walkers than the sound had attracted, not all that concerned about what we were going to do about the back wall. Right then, all I cared about was knowing our people made it out alive.

"Daryl," I said softly as I fell to the ground at his side, my hands searching for any kind of injury. Aside from being out cold, he seemed relatively unharmed. Then I saw it. The deeply embedded piece of debris in his thigh. My stomach turned at the sight. I quickly placed my hand over the wound, trying to formulate a plan that would get everything securely inside sooner, rather than later.

"Harleigh! How bad is he?" Glenn called, running towards us. I looked up. Glenn's face was bruised, but aside from that, he looked unharmed.

"Daryl's out cold, piece of metal in his leg. Rick's got a gunshot to the right shoulder, he's losing a lot of blood," I told the Asian, who was at my side in a moment's time. "We lose anyone?"

"Not sure. Michonne's clearing out as many walkers as she can right now. What's the plan?" he asked. The fact that he was turning to me for advice was a little unnerving.

"I don't know if Daryl hit his head or anything when the bomb went off. I don't want to move him too much in case he did," I said slowly. "We need to get everyone inside and have Hershel tend to their wounds. Have you seen Merle?"

"He went through the fence when the bomb went off. Might be hot on the Governor's tail?" he suggested.

"Let's hope," I muttered darkly. Right then, I needed Merle with us, not off chasing after the man that caused all this. "There should be a piece of drywall in the hallway still. If it seems sturdy enough, bring it out here. We'll use it as a stretcher for Daryl," I motioned.

"What about Rick?" he asked, shooting a look at our leader.

"He'll live," I said somewhat bitterly. "Daryl needs to get inside before Rick does. 'Sides, we're down how many right now? Everyone has to bear the weight," I added. My voice came out strained and harsh. Glenn's expression shifted slightly, but he nodded. He ran towards the prison, gingerly stepping over the fallen bodies.

I glanced at Daryl before going over to Rick, my heart racing in my chest. Before Woodbury, back when I had a small group of my own, I was the unspoken leader. I knew how to get through the thick of it without losing anyone. I could do this. I could take charge and keep these people alive. I knelt in front of Rick, my hand on his cheek. He was pale, his eyes lifeless, though the spark returned momentarily when he felt my hand on his skin.

"Rick, can you walk?" I asked him softly. He nodded his head and grabbed onto my shoulder for support. I helped him to his feet and slowly led him to the bus. Better to keep both of them together for now.

"H-how bad i-is he?" he stammered. Each word was a struggle for him.

"I don't know," I said truthfully. "We'll know more as soon as we can get him inside."

"Harleigh," Michonne called, her eyes widening at whatever had caught her attention.

"Huh?" I called, letting go of Rick as soon as he could brace himself against the bus. I joined her and followed her gaze.

"One of ours?" I asked her, seeing the man hobbling towards the gate.

"Merle maybe?" she suggested. "But who's he got with him?"

I squinted, my heart dropping. "Martinez," I whispered. Martinez wasn't the worst person in Woodbury by any means. But he was no saint. He had been the source of plenty of my less than pleasant memories of the place. But he was also a kind man, under all the tough attitude and brave exterior. I'd seen him at his weakest once, and it was enough to make me like the man, if only just a little.

"The Governor's pet?" Michonne snorted.

"You could say that. Stay here," I told her as I jogged off to meet them at the gate. Walkers swarmed as they normally did, but I took little notice. Merle was struggling to keep the Hispanic man upright, so I pushed through the walkers, ignoring their snapping jaws and grabbing hands. When I reached the pair, I tugged Martinez's arm over my shoulder, providing a little extra help for Merle, who looked exhausted.

"Fill me in," I breathed. Merle looked at me, then at the bus.

"Leave no 'un behind. Wasn't that your motto?" he grumbled. I smiled inwardly at that. So Merle had been listening all those months ago.

* * *

**A/n - Since Merle and Martinez are both dead in the actual series, I decided that means they're fair game and I get to play with them for a while. :P This chapter serves more as a filler, since my first copy of it was deleted when my computer crashed. Hopefully I can square away the next chapter tomorrow. If not, Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Don't forget to review! I love knowing what y'all think!**


	24. Chapter 23 - Lighten The Mood

It took Hershel a long time to tend to everyone's wounds. Everyone had a few cuts and bruises, but the worst were Daryl's leg wound, Rick's bullet wound, Martinez's broken ankle, and Glenn's sprained wrist.

I was stitching a cut along Merle's temple when Hershel finally approached me, a concerned look on his face. He motioned for me to follow, so after quickly finishing my task, I followed him through the prison, up, to the perch that was once Daryl's sleeping spot of choice.

"How bad off is it?" I asked, referring to our more injured allies.

"Rick's going to be fine, as is Martinez and Glenn," he said slowly. I noticed the way his gaze shifted at my question.

"And Daryl?" I pushed.

"He's lost a lot of blood," he said slowly. "More than his body can safely replace."

"We have to set up a transfusion then," I nodded.

"We don't know his blood type," Hershel pointed out.

"I know mine. I'm O neg, I'm a universal donor," I said quickly.

"You're still anemic from your own injuries prior to the attack," he said glumly.

"Ta hell with that," I snorted. "I can spare a pint or two," I chuckled.

"Harleigh, it's risky," he argued.

"Risks be damned," I growled. "Hershel, stick the damn line in so we can get this over with and I can go back to stitching people back together."

He saw the determination in my eyes and nodded for me to follow him. I followed him into the cell that was currently serving as the infirmary, since no one was too willing to leave our block. Rick was perched on the top bunk, his face drawn. Against the wall, Martinez was rubbing his broken ankle. On the bottom bunk, laid Daryl, who hadn't woken up since the explosion. His face was a sickly shade of white. If I hadn't been watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, I'd have thought he was dead.

Maggie brought over a chair and motioned for me to sit, her face drawn as she washed down my arm.

"You don't have to do this, you know," she said softly. "You don't owe us anything."

"I'm part of this group now," I said stoically. "I owe Daryl my life."

"You don't," she said softly before sticking the needle into my arm. "You're an asset to the group."

I didn't say anything. Instead, I focused on the wall across from my, ignoring the pulsating feeling rushing through my arm as blood collected in the bag in Maggie's hands. I took deep, even breaths, constantly reminding myself that if I passed out, Hershel would just scold me for not listening.

I heard the familiar sound of claws on concrete, not the least bit surprised when Blade came limping into the cell, his fur matted with blood and god only knows what else. He looked at me for a moment, before letting out a low whine. I glanced at the door, surprised to see three straggly, mangy dogs sitting there, waiting for the signal.

"Blade, you're as bad as Riley was!" I teased, letting my free hand brush against his fur. "Who do we have here?" I motioned the dogs over, not all at surprised that two of the three shrank back. Blade was the same way when he'd first joined my little pack. The smallest, a skinny toy breed of some sort, came right up to me, her long fur matted so badly, I knew it'd take time to finally restore her coat to its original condition. She wagged her tail, licking my fingers happily. Upon seeing the little dog so happy and content, the biggest of the group – next to Blade, who was nearly as high as my thigh – slowly approached, his tale tucked, his ears flat. I noticed he had a spark in his eye very similar to that of Riley when he was a puppy. By the dog's huge paws, I knew he was still a puppy, no more than a few months old. The perfect age to be trained.

The last dog, a knee high shepherd mix, glared at me as if I was nothing more than the dirt on the ground. Her teeth were bared, her fur standing on end. Hershel just watched as I motioned the dog over. He seemed to sense that I had a gift I didn't let many people see. Maggie was patting the smaller dog, a smile playing on her lips.

"Did you grow up around dogs?" Hershel asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I did. My mom always had a dog or two in the house and my uncle often times had a small pack of hunting dogs," I explained. "Always had a way with 'em I guess."

"Just like in Woodbury," Martinez noted. "With Blade and the other one."

"Uh-huh. And they're a perfect weapon," I said softly. "Riley himself was responsible for over 15 kills, not including that of game."

"Exactly," he nodded, knowing what I was talking about. "You have a way with molding 'em into little hell raisers."

"Hey, someone's gotta look out for 'em. 'Sides, if worse comes worst, it's meat," I shrugged. I glanced down at the wary pup, which looked at me with deep, chocolate eyes. I let my hand fall to his side, my fingers tracing circles in his long fur. I felt the effects of the transfusion slowly taking over, along with exhaustion and just general shock of all that had happened. Maggie stood over me, watching my blood slowly fill the bag.

"How many units do you need?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"One will be enough for now," Hershel said quickly. "You need to rest afterwards. No goin' off playin' hero."

"Ain't got any energy left to play hero," I mumbled. A sudden thought brought a smile to my lips. "You know what I want?"

"What?" Maggie asked, eyeing my carefully.

"I want chocolate. Like a huge, sugary, dark chocolate cake," I beamed.

"Ass!" Rick chuckled from the top bunk. I looked up at him, grinning crazily.

"Hey, we didn't lose anyone today, that's almost as good as chocolate," I commented.

"You almost did," Martinez said darkly.

"Way to kill the mood," I shot back. I glared at him for a moment before we both shared a smile. Despite the attack, we had all made it out alive. And we gained a good fighter in the process.

"Hershel, do me a favor," I said softly, looking at the old vet.

"What?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Tell the others to relax for a while. Not relax relax, but relax enough to recover. We've got a lot of work to do in the mornin', and it'd be a lot easier to do it without everyone bein' wired and trigger happy," I said with a yawn. "It's been a long day. After this is done, I'll take the first watch."

"Michonne's already up there. Said she wanted to take the first watch," Glenn said as he came into the cell carrying my bag, along with a bowl of water for the dogs. "I'm taking over in an hour or two, then Carl and Merle."

"Y'all got it all worked out then," I nodded. "Good."

"You rest now," Maggie instructed, pulling the needle from my arm. "Like you said, tomorrow's a longer day."

"Uh-huh. Wake me up if there's any news," I said, shifting in the chair. I propped my legs up on the bed, getting as comfortable as possible. My hand reached for Daryl's, my heart breaking at how cold his skin was. I prayed to whoever was listening that he'd make a full recovery, and soon.

I was either still in shock or just so worn out that soon, I was oblivious to everything and everyone. For the first time in a long time, I felt nothing. Not worry, not fear, not anger. I didn't feel a damn thing, and that in itself, was enough.


	25. Chapter 24 - The Plan

I didn't remember moving an inch all night, much less winding up on the bunk beside Daryl. I was later informed that Daryl actually was the one who suggested it. I woke up with an arm thrown carelessly across my chest, making it almost impossible to wiggle free. The little dog was perched on my stomach, her ears perked, her little tail wagging.

"Too much to ask for a gentle wakeup call?" I muttered, wiggling under the arm that had me pinned. I wasn't used to being this close to people, other than Alana. I wiggled some more, finally waking up the person who the arm belonged to.

"Ya move too much," a familiar, yet tired voice grumbled.

"Ya snore!" I shot back. He looked at me funny before moving his arm. I sat up, causing the little dog to fall onto the bed, her tail still wagging.

"Ya know, dogs belong on the floor," I scolded her. She cocked her head, her little body wiggling down with excitement. "Okay, okay, down, I'll take ya outside as soon as I find my jacket," I told her.

"Where'd they come from?" Daryl asked, looking at the two dogs who were waiting patiently beside Blade. The little one didn't leave the bed, just kept jumping around like a lunatic.

"Blade found 'em," I chuckled. "How're ya feeling?" I was still half asleep.

"Better, thanks ta you," he said with a grin. "Still playin' hero, huh?"

"Always!" I chuckled, scooping the dog up in my arms.

"You two mind keepin' it down?" Rick grumbled from the top bunk. I looked up, a thought crossing my mind. I held the dog above my head, letting her jump onto the bunk above. A moment later, I heard Rick groan with frustration.

"Karma's a bitch, my friend," I chuckled. The dog licked his face eagerly, her entire body flopping and flailing as he tried to knock her off the bed.

"Good to see ya up and about," Hershel's gruff voice chimed as he entered the cell. "Sleep well?"

"She slept like a baby," Daryl said before I could respond. I shot him a confused look, but simply nodded. I grabbed the dog off the bunk and set her on the floor, chuckling as she rolled over, begging for a belly rub.

"Ya know, they need names," I pondered, looking at the dogs. The largest one cocked his head, listening closely to my every word. I nodded for him to come over, and unlike the day before, he came to my side with no problem at all.

"Chance," I whispered to the dog as he looked up at me. "I think you're a 'Chance'." He barked once, almost as if he agreed. The oldest of the group, the shepherd mix, was laying by the door, her eyes locked on me, her teeth bared.

"Molasses," I decided. Her dark pelt and stubborn attitude reminded me of the dark liquor. The little toy dog was still rolling around like a puppy all too eager for attention. I scooped her up in my arms, letting her lick my face.

"And you, my little ball of fire, are Vixon," I said brightly. The little dog wiggled in my arms happily.

"What'cha plan to do with 'em?" Daryl asked, rubbing Chance's head.

"Train 'em to hunt, first of all," I said with a smile. "Always come home with more game with a pack of dogs at ya side."

"Even the little one?" he asked, motioning to the furball in my arms.

"Vixon here is gon' be a star at rabbit huntin', aren't ya?" I asked the little dog. She wagged her tail happily. I could see the terrier spark in her eyes. She'd be a wonderful hunter after a few training sessions.

"Wastin' time on dogs," Rick huffed.

"Rick, the world's gone to shit, might as well make the most of it," I scolded, the mother in me coming out. "Besides, these here dogs might save our lives one day. Jus' remember, Daryl ain't gon' be able to hunt for at least a month. That leaves me and Glenn," I chuckled. Rick wasn't gonna be able to hunt till the bullet wound healed and I knew Hershel agreed with me on that. Glenn was good for runs, but sucked at hunting. I wasn't too keen on hunting by myself with the Governor still out and about.

"Ya forgot Merle," Daryl reminded me.

"Rick. And Merle. But he's only got one good arm. I ain't puttin' all my eggs in that basket," I snorted. "Besides, Blade always did better with a pack. He's too wary on his own."

Rick grumbled something under his breath as I grabbed my jacket and led the dogs out into the common room. Molasses immediately ran for the entryway, Chance at her side, whereas Vixon was content with following me at a normal pace, with Blade bringing up the rear. I led the way outside, turning the dogs loose in the field. I noted that the yard had been cleared out, despite the short time that had passed.

Molasses watched the fence with eager eyes, her ears twitching at the sounds of the walkers. Chance chased after a rat that had jetted out of the side of one of the buildings, while Vixon rolled around in the grass as if she spent her whole life caged up in a kennel. Blade stood guard, as always, only briefly wandering off to relieve himself. I allowed the dogs only a handful of minutes before leading them back into our cell block, where everyone had gathered in the common room to formulate a plan.

"Martinez is certain the Governor shot a good portion of his men last night," Rick said from where he was seated against the wall. "That might work in our advantage."

"Depends what you plan to do, Rick," Daryl said grimly. "Ya sure this is what ya wanna do?"

"He tried to ambush us, Daryl," Rick said dryly.

"Regardless, Rick, we're down a lot of good people right now," I interjected, picking Vixon up before she could trip Hershel. "You and Daryl are no good right now. That leaves me, Merle, Glenn, Maggie and Michonne to go there. Michonne and me have a past there. Ain't no way any of their people are gonna follow us. Merle's practically a trader in their eyes, and Glenn and Maggie were once hostages. Rick, it's a lose lose situation."

"We have to try," he said sternly. "I can still go out there with y'all."

"And risk another bullet? I think not!" Hershel scolded.

"He has a point," I sided with the vet. "Rick, you're out for the count till that heals."

"I can still walk," Daryl interjected carefully. "I can be of some use."

I glared at him, my heart torn. I knew there was no trying to reason with the stubborn redneck, but my heart broke at the very thought of him risking his life again. I shook my head, unable to find the words to express what I was thinking. Instead, I turned away from the group, heading back to the cell we had shared, where I sank onto the bunk, letting Vixon claim the cold spot beside me.

"Can't lose no one else," I said to her, letting my fingers pick at the mats in her fur. I pulled a pair of scissors from my bag and went to work on her fur, snipping and slicing until she looked like a totally new dog. Once done with her, I did the same to Chance, who was steadily warming up to humans again. Molasses was skeptical, but allowed me to snip away at her mats until the knotted, dirty fur fell to the ground in dirty heaps. The dogs all looked better once their fur was detangled. I knew they'd be great guard dogs at some point, but until then, they'd be prison bound.

My thoughts raced as I thought about the plan Rick was trying to formulate. It was suicidal. Stupid. It made no sense. Were we looking for survivors? Readying an attack? Revenge? Or did Rick have a bigger plan, one even he wasn't entirely aware of yet? I sighed and let the small dog curl up in my lap as I leaned against the wall, letting sleep take over. Later, I was aware of someone laying down next to me, but I tried not to focus on it too much. Daryl had been acting strange ever since we first left the group, so it was nothing new. Who knew what was going on in that head of his. Daryl was a mysterious man to say the least. Fiercely loyal and protective, but mysterious all the same.


	26. Chapter 25 - Stand Down

I snuggled into his arms, breathless and feeling completely amazing, yet terrified and unsure at the same time. He wrapped his arm tighter around me and I could feel his body twitching with excitement. When our eyes met, it was like the first moment all over again. He rolled me onto my back, careful to avoid landing on his injured leg, his body pressing tightly against mine.

"We shouldn't do this," I hissed, burying my face into his neck as he slid into me, each movement careful and gentle, yet urgent at the exact same time.

"Eh," he muttered into my ear. "Ta hell with it."

I bit back a moan, my fingers laced in his hair. He groaned with pleasure, his stubble tickling my cheek. I blushed as he whispered sweet nothings into my ear, my hips moving in sync with his. Our bodies fit together almost perfectly. Despite his injured leg, he had no problem keeping up with the movements.

Daryl surprised me when he dipped his head, his lips pressing firmly against mine, his teeth gently grazing my lips. I smiled in spite of myself, returning the kiss with an equal amount of passion and urgency. It felt so _perfect_.

We could have gone like that forever, but the real world soon came knocking. It was Molasses who caused us to pull apart, both equally aware of the other's naked body. The old bitch looked at us with a wary expression, before letting out a short bark. I glanced at the cell door, which was covered with a thin sheet. Early morning sunlight cast shadows across the cell, kindly reminding us that it was a new day and that there was a mission to complete.

I groaned and rolled over, pulling the sheet with me. Daryl grimaced, but allowed me to pull away his only form of cover, while I searched the cell for my clothes, which were thrown amuck along with his.

It took us a few minutes to gather our closing and dress ourselves, though Daryl struggled to pull his jeans on over the bandage that covered his thigh. Without hesitation, I helped him, earning a sweet, heart breaking smile from the man in front of me.

My heart melted. How could I possibly have gotten so lucky as to not only have slept with this beautiful, kind man, but to have made love to him during the zombie apocalypse?

_Stop it, _I scolded myself. _Ya can't go 'round thinking thoughts like that. It was a onetime thing. It meant nothing. It was just a way to burn off steam. Get over it._

I pulled my jacket tight around myself before nodding at the dogs, gently nudging Vixon out of the way as I pushed through the sheet, entering the busy common room. Maggie and Beth shared a knowing look when they saw my disheveled look. I quickly pulled my hair back, a blush creeping up on my cheeks.

"You don't think…?" Beth hissed.

"Nu-uh, no way," Maggie giggled. I blushed fiercely, rushing past the pair. Maggie let out another giggle before sighing almost blissfully.

"About time that man got some action! God knows he needed it!" she squealed to Beth, who giggled like a little school girl.

I wanted to smack the two of them, but instead, I led my small pack outside, eager for the warm arm to put an end to the feelings flooding through my body. I walked slowly, the slight ache of my body reminding me of the events the day before. It seemed surreal, how in one moment, everything was peaceful and the next, everything could go to hell in a hand basket.

As we cleared the final door leading outside, I noticed Blade tense up, his ears perked forward as he sniffed the air, almost as if searching for any trace of danger. It didn't surprise me when he raced ahead the moment the door was open, leaving the other dogs to watch on with disdain. It was Molasses who led the pack outside, her tail high as she sniffed the air, letting the warm spring breeze ruffle her fur.

Though my bow was ready, I felt little need for it. Maybe it was the hormones wearing off, or maybe it was a false sense of security, but in that moment, I felt completely safe, as if the world was still a decent enough place. I knew it was only my heart trying to convince me as such, but I allowed myself to be blinded by the ignorance, if only for a moment. I followed the dogs as they did their laps, not the least bit concerned that Blade refused to relax, despite Molasses' relaxed posture. The old bitch had no problem legging behind, letting the younger dogs run the fence. I followed after Chance and Vixon, overly aware at how eager the dogs were to jump up and bite the fingers off the walkers who reached too far. I smiled inwardly at how alert the little dog and her young friend were. Molasses seemed more interested in rolling in the grass, while Chance jumped at the fence with pride, his teeth racking the faces of the walkers who pressed tightly against the chain links. Vixon tried to dig under the fence, but was quickly pulled back by Blade, who guarded the new arrivals as if they were his own.

It made me think of how the group had been with Alana and me. When we first arrived, the group was hostile, not the least bit welcoming, but as time passed, Alana grew on the women and eventually, so did I in a sense. When I sided with the Dixons, it was clear that my alliances were not the same as their own, until we returned and saved their asses from the Governor's attack.

I shook my head, trying to clear the angry thoughts that flooded my mind. I picked up my pace, taking out a walker every now and then with my knife, not caring that the blood was sticking to my skin. I blew off the pent up frustration before slowly making my way back into the prison, in time to hear Rick go over the plan.

* * *

The plan was to get in and get out as quickly as possible. That was all Rick could offer us. It seemed absurd to be planning an ambush so soon after the Governor attacked the prison, kind of like how our parents used to say two wrongs don't make a right, but Rick was dead set on getting even with the man who caused us so much damage. I couldn't help but envy his determination.

Michonne and I agreed that we should stick together, since the two of us knew Woodbury's layout and knew a few of the survivors. Though I was seen as a trader by some, I was still the same woman I was when I first arrived at Woodbury and my only hope was to find some of the people who had become like family to me when I was there.

Michonne, on the other hand, wanted the Governor's head on a silver platter. I think we all did at that point.

"I'm comin' with," Daryl said sternly. Hershel was about to argue, but I quickly put an end to the debate.

"We need him," I said quickly. "If nothing else, he's another set of eyes. And even with his leg being fucked up, he'll be another set o' hands too."

"It's a huge risk, Harleigh," he muttered as he limped past me. I couldn't argue with that, but in the same breath, I felt safer knowing Daryl was coming with us.

We split up into teams shortly after the sun had fully risen. Daryl, Michonne, Merle, Martinez and I, along with the dogs, led the front of the attack. Maggie and Glenn, close behind, while Rick, Hershel, Beth and Carl hung back. We didn't want to risk everyone, but we had little choice. We were outnumbered greatly, but it was all we had.

Maggie and Glenn would cover the forest, ensuring that no one snuck up on the prison while we were away. Daryl and I would lead the front, scouting the area before moving forward. Michonne and Merle, though the two didn't see eye to eye on many things, agreed to follow us, taking a different route, but staying within range. Martinez, though his ankle was broken, managed to keep in touch with us via the car, which we were using as base. We'd move forward a mile or two before doubling back. It was a huge waste of time, but it was the best we could do with our numbers as limited as they were.

It wasn't until midday that we reached Woodbury. It had been a long, tedious trek, but we soon realized it was worth it. Before reaching Woodbury, as Martinez had said, we had stumbled upon the remaining Woodbury army. Or what was left of them. Dead and long since eaten by the small herd that surrounded them. It sickened me to see those people…those things, crawling around like broken, decaying creatures, but there was no time to waste. We carefully avoided the herd, entering Woodbury territory shortly after.

We were met by an unlikely pair the moment we reached the gate. I knew the woman, Sasha, from my last days in Woodbury. She and her brother, Tyreese were strong, dedicated people. I held up my hands as we approached, not daring to provoke the cautious pair. I knew they were people of words, not bullets. I had trusted Sasha with vital information before leaving Woodbury – I just hoped that was enough to assure her that we meant no wrong.

"Sasha!" Martinez called. I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of his voice. Neither Daryl nor I had been aware he had made it so close to us. He was leaning heavily on Merle, who looked at Sasha with pleading eyes.

"Martinez? That you?" she called, shielding her eyes from the blazing sunlight.

"Yeah," he called back. "Stand down. We need to talk."


	27. Chapter 26 - Welcome To The Tombs

It was beyond awkward, standing on the main street in Woodbury, back to back with the same people who put me through so much hell only a few short months prior. To say we were prepared for anything, was an understatement. Despite the injured parties, we kept our presence very much known. I stood slightly in front of Daryl, providing him a crutch, so to speak. Maggie stood close to Glenn, who was right to Daryl's injured side like glue. Michonne stood slightly to our right, her katana drawn with a murderous look on her face. It was Merle, who stood calmly, his face masking all emotion as he told Sasha, Tyreese and the remaining Woodbury survivors about the Governor and his wicked ways.

Martinez leaned heavily on the cruel man's ex-second in command, his eyes sad as he looked at what were once his willing allies.

"He's gone off the deep end," one of the women, Clare, said with wide eyes. "That's not the man we all know and have come to love!"

"Clare," I said softly, my heart breaking at her dedication to the very man we were speaking of. "You saw what he allowed to happen here, within these walls."

"You're nothing but a traitor. What about the attack on us? We lost good people then and now…?" she fumed.

"Clare, he was holding two of our own captive!" I said calmly. "It wasn't an attack, it was a rescue mission."

"You know nothing," Merle said calmly. "The Governor only let you see one side of him. Ask Martinez, he was there the night he shot up his own people!"

"What can we do now?" Ryan, the father of two young girls, asked, his younger daughter, Mika, clinging to him for dear life.

I looked at Daryl, who nodded that it was up to me if I chose to offer them the offer Rick put on the table earlier when we were discussing the possible outcomes.

"We have a place, a few miles from here," I said carefully as I stepped forward, one hand on my knife, the other, tightly gripping at Daryl's outstretched hand. "Most of you know that already," I said, addressing the small group that had formed. "We have food, shelter, weapons," I went on. "And we're willing to open our home to y'all, but only if you agree to abide by simple rules and pull your weight."

"Why should we?" Sasha asked irritably. "Last time, your leader turned us away."

"Rick," I said cautiously. "Was not well when you last met him." I considered what else to say. "He had just lost his wife, he was hurt and frightened and didn't know what else to do to protect his group and his family. We're stronger now. We're more willing to let others in. Join us, and you won't have to worry about the Governor or his crazy, suicidal antics anymore."

The group seemed to consider our offer. I took a deep breath, my eyes scanning the survivors. These were good people, strong people. The Governor took out his own army, leaving the trustworthy behind. I smiled inwardly at the thought. Though many were too young or too old to be of much help, they were still more bodies. And these days, there was great safety in strong numbers.

"Consider it," I said loudly, for all to hear. "I have reason to believe Andrea's still here. I intend to find her. Y'all can think about it in the meantime."

Michonne stiffened. She hadn't been thinking of her old ally, but I had. I nodded at Merle, who gave me a knowing look. Silently, we broke apart. Glenn, Maggie, Michonne, Daryl and I headed for the one place I knew the Governor would lock Andrea, while Martinez and Merle waited for the group to decide on what they wished to do.

We made quick work of the lock on the door, but what laid inside was truly one of the worst cases of torture I had ever had to witness, which said something, since the Governor was a cruel, heartless, murderous man.

"Andrea!" Michonne sobbed, rushing to her friend's side. Andrea looked up at us with feverish eyes, her face pale, blood seeping from her shoulder. I knew instantly, that she had been bit.

Lying a few feet away was the dead body of Milton, the Governor's favorite pet. I kicked his limp body, my heart sinking.

"Why?" I asked, turning to Andrea.

"Why not?" she shot back. I forced a sad smile to reach my face as I knelt beside her, my heart shattering at how much fight was left in the woman, despite her knowing her own fate. "It was a pleasure," I said softly, letting my hand fall to hers. "You were the only one fighting for peace."

"Always have been," she smiled.

"I know." I gave her hand a squeeze before excusing myself from the room. I hadn't known Andrea like the others had. It was hard to even think of what they must have been feeling.

Soon, one by one, the group filed out, leaving Michonne and Andrea to spend her last moments together in peace. A half hour later, a single gunshot rang out, singling Andrea's death. I sighed and turned to the group, forcing myself to keep the task at hand in the forefront of our minds.

"If they decide to join us, we need to figure out how we're getting everyone back. We've only got the one car right now, and the rest of us won't make it back on foot before sundown," I said quickly.

"We can take cars from here," Maggie suggested. I nodded and glanced at Molasses, who sat patiently at my side. "There's a bus out in the main lot. Load it up with anything of use. There's something I've got to do first." I said.

"You're always running off doing something," Glenn muttered.

"Naturally," I shot back. "I'm pretty sure they aren't going to turn down this offer. And I don't want to be the one standing around with my thumb up my ass." I quickly moved away from them, hurrying out of the building, using the same path I used to escape to find what I was looking for.

It didn't take long to find Milton's private records of everything he knew thus far, from how the virus is spread, something we all already knew, to multiple experiments he had performed in hopes of finding a cure, antidote, anything. There weren't many advances, but he did have a few theories that were definitely something to look at. I shoved the files and old notebooks into my bag, before moving onto what I was actually there for. I raided his lab for anything of medical use, from books and articles on simple, everyday procedures, to the more complicated items we might one day need. My eyes locked on the portable ultrasound machine, along with the respirator and several empty IV bags. I smiled to myself as I shoved the items into my bag, aware of how heavy it now was. I slung it over my shoulder, grimacing at the sheer weight.

As I neared the bus, it didn't surprise me that the group of survivors were boarding it. I shoved my bag under with the rest of the bags, noting that our group had ransacked the Woodbury supplies. I was proud of how fast they worked, especially given how sore and tired everyone was.

I caught sight of Merle and waved him over. He came over, his face pinched in a look of worry.

"What's wrong?" I asked, scanning the group for the rest of our people.

"Can't find Daryl," he muttered.

"Excuse me?" I almost spat. I quickly pulled away from him, drawing my bow as I ran through the town, looking for the most important person in my life. I didn't care that Merle was following close behind or that Glenn was warning us that we were quickly losing sunlight. All I cared about was finding Daryl.

A sharp bark to my right made me chance course, following the sound through one of the now vacant allies. Sure enough, there Daryl was, leaning heavily against the wall of the neighboring building, Molasses standing protectively at his side, her body pressed against his injured leg.

"You good, baby brother?" Merle asked, jogging to catch up.

"Yuh," he said through clenched teeth. "Hurts," he said as I offered him my shoulder to lean on. I noticed the blood seeping through his pant leg. He must've tore the stitches.

"Merle, go tell Glenn to bring a car around," I shouted as Merle got closer. He nodded and turned on his heels, heading quickly back to the parking lot.

"I can walk," Daryl muttered.

"Don't be stupid," I said sternly. "Sit down." He did as he was told and we silently waited for Glenn to pull up with a car. It seemed to take forever, but soon, all of us were piled into either the bus, or various other cars, on our way back to the prison. I drove the old station wagon, Glenn in the back seat, along with Molasses and Vixon, who was eagerly licking his fingers. Daryl said beside me, his face skillfully masking the pain he was experiencing. I wanted to kick myself for agreeing to let him come. He should have been back at the prison with Rick and Hershel.

But it was too late for those kinds of thoughts. So instead, I focused on leaving the bus back to the prison, in hopes of building the life we all dreamed of.


	28. Chapter 27 - Baby on Board

I was back to back with Merle in the woods a few miles away from the prison. We were hunting for something larger than a turkey. Though it had been just over a month since the Woodbury survivors joined our camp, Daryl was still as Hershel put it, restricted on what he could and couldn't do. And since no one from Woodbury really had any experience with hunting, it was up to Merle and I to come back with game.

"Stop clobbering around!" I snarled as we neared a herd of deer. "You'll scare 'em all off."

"You're da one clobbering amuck!" he snapped. I didn't say anything. I was feeling under the weather and just wanted the hunt to end. Over the last week, I'd noticed that I just didn't have the energy I used to. Match that with waking up every morning feeling like shit and losing my breakfast before it could even hit my stomach, I was feeling anything but confident about the hunt. Hershel suggested pregnancy, but it seemed unlikely. Daryl and I only slept together twice since the first time, and both times, we were careful. Or so we thought.

"Hang back," I muttered to Molasses, who was stalking the deer along with us. She had become a very active part of our hunts the last two weeks. Unlike Chance who would get distracted by the sounds or smells of walkers, Molasses was able to zero in on her prey.

I was about to release an arrow when a sudden pain in my abdomen made me shrink back, biting a cry of pain. Merle shot me a look before taking out his gun, ending one of the smaller does before it could run off with the rest. I said nothing as I leaned heavily against a tree, my body twitching as I fought against the stabbing pains.

"Leigh?" Merle said cautiously, the doe now forgotten. He was at my side in seconds flat, his hand resting on my shoulder. I looked up at him, aware of the sweat pouring down my face.

"I'm fine," I lied through clenched teeth.

"Like hell ya are," he said with a shake of his head. "C'mon, we'll leave the deer for the biters. Let's get ya back to Hershel."

"I'm fine. Ain't come all this way to feed the walkers," I growled. "Grab the deer an' let's go."

Merle reluctantly did as I said, though he kept his eyes on me the entire way back to the prison. Daryl met us at the gate, his expression changing from that of excitement to one of concern when he saw the look on Merle's face. I pushed past the pair before Daryl could bombard me with useless questions. I barely made it halfway to C block when another sharp, unbearable pain ripped through my abdomen, causing me to double over, a pained cry escaping my lips.

Have it my luck, Daryl had been following me and was at my side in seconds, his arms wrapping protectively around my body. I bit back another cry, my muscles tensing under his touch.

"What's wrong?" he asked me, his tone urgent and concerned.

"Something's wrong…" I moaned, pressing my face against his shoulder as my knees gave way.

* * *

"Thought Hershel told ya to take it easy?" Rick scolded a month later. My tiny frame was sporting the starts of a baby bump, thanks to being nothing but skin and bones before the pregnancy. Hershel had been right after all. From his calculations, I was about 9 weeks pregnant now.

"I am," I said with a sullen smile. Vixon was darting between my legs, her bushy tail wagging happily. "Had to take this 'un out 'fore she drove us all insane."

"Does Daryl know you're out here?" Rick asked.

"Yeah," I laughed. "He was the one who suggested it. Ya get stir crazy when you're stuck inside all the time."

"Safer for the baby though," he observed.

"I'm not gon' lose the baby by walkin' around a little bit," I sighed. "Hershel cleared me for some gentle walking. No running. No hunting. No climbing. Walking is fine."

"How're ya gonna hold up these next 6 months?" he chided. "You've never seemed to be the sit around and be merry type."

"Ehh," I shrugged. "I'll read a book. Or ten."

"Sounds fair enough," he chuckled. "Take it easy though," he added as he walked back towards the fence, taking out the pile of walkers that were slowly piling up along the chain links. I sighed to myself. I felt more useless than ever. But Hershel was convinced I was running a high risk of losing the baby, or worse, and refused to let me do anything anymore. I wasn't even allowed to pick up Vixon, the tiny, five pounds soaking wet dog.

I slowly walked back into our cell block, Vixon at my heels. The little dog had become my only source of entertainment since Hershel restricted me to bed rest and light activities only. I smiled down at her, eager to let her loose in the block once more. As soon as we rounded the corner, I felt the weight of a child slamming into my side. I yelped and fell back, catching myself against the wall before I could fall.

"Mika! Watch out! You almost knocked her over!" Lizzie cried, looking up at me with fearful eyes. "I'm real sorry about her, Harleigh," she said, her eyes scanning the hallway for something.

"It's okay, really," I said with a small smile. "I'm not that fragile."

"Is the baby okay?" Mika said with wide eyes. "I didn't mean to, I swear!"

I kneeled down so I was face to face with the frightened child.

"It's okay, Mika, really. The baby's perfectly okay," I smiled. As if to prove my point, I let her lay her hand on my barely visible baby bump. "See? Perfectly okay."

She smiled up at me before rejoining her sister as the pair ran down the hallway towards D block. I smiled to myself as I continued to C, where Carl let me back in through the locked gate.

"I thought Hershel told you to stay put?" he muttered as Vixon tried to jump up on him.

"I did," I chuckled. "The dog had to pee."

"Someone else could have taken her out," he scolded.

"Carl, I'm not a child, and the baby is fine. Everyone needs to let up," I sighed before slowly making my way up the stairs leading to the cell Daryl and I shared. Daryl was sitting on the bottom bunk, his head in his hands. I sighed, knowing another argument was about to break out.

"Where the hell have you been?" he practically screamed, causing me to shrink back, away from his angry tone.

"Vixon needed some fresh air and quite frankly, so did I!" I said, shaking my head. "I'm fine, Daryl, really."

"You almost lost the baby, Harleigh. You're far from fine!" he shouted. He hadn't been too keen on the idea of keeping the baby when he first found out, but in the weeks since the almost miscarriage, he had become not only used to the idea, but outrageously protective of me.

"I'm fine, Daryl, perfectly fine," I said as calmly as I could, despite the tears welling in my eyes. "Go hunt or keep watch or do something. You're driving me crazy with your overly protective self!" I suggested.

"It's my job to protect you," he growled.

"No," I said lightly, placing my hand on his arm. "It's your job to protect everyone. We're running low on meat, and you heard Hershel, I need to keep up on protein. Go catch us a nice ol' turkey for dinner."

He scowled at me for a moment before pulling me into his arms, kissing me passionately for a moment before pulling away.

"You're gonna be the death of me, Harleigh, I swear," he grunted as he grabbed his crossbow, leaving me breathless and alone in the small cell. I smiled as I stretched out on the bottom bunk, Vixon soon wiggling her way into my arms. Despite everything, I felt confident that it would be okay. One way or another, everything would be okay.

* * *

**A/n - For the sake of not having to write a 9 month pregnancy, I'm going to merge the scenes together to avoid the boring, filler chapters that would have otherwise taken over the next few chapters. With that said, this is where I veer completely away from the original series. :) **


	29. Chapter 28 - No Mercy Here

I didn't want to think about how all of it could go all wrong. I didn't want to think about how our child could grow up without knowing his or her parents or how simply by crying, he or she could bring on a herd of walkers. I didn't want to think about how I could die before I ever got to hold my child in my arms. How Daryl could die on that stupid, ridiculous run, leaving our child to never know his or her father. As much as I didn't want to think such thoughts, that's what I found myself doing as Braxton Hicks left me feeling winded and weaker than ever, on the bottom bunk of the bed Daryl and I had been sharing for the last 30 weeks.

I groaned and forced myself to sit up, hoping the baby could wait another ten weeks. Just ten more weeks and it'd be safe. Safe for him or her to enter this cruel, harsh world.

"Hershel!" I called when another round of pain coursed through my body. I didn't feel pain like this, this early on with my son. I almost lost him in the first trimester, but after that small incident, my pregnancy had gone without any problems, right up to labor. I had him naturally with no problems at all. He was a tiny little guy, but healthy and lively. This time, something felt wrong. "Hershel!" I called a little louder, pain coursing through my body.

I heard the familiar scuffle of his footsteps on the concrete floor, followed by another pair of footsteps. A moment later, he and Maggie were standing in front of me, a look of concern plastered on their faces.

"How long have you been feeling like this?" Hershel asked as I explained what was wrong.

"A day or two," I admitted. "Since Daryl left for this stupid run."

"It could be stress…" Maggie mused.

"Ain't stress," I said through clenched teeth. "Was more stressed with my son way back when, ain't ever felt nothin' like this before."

"Can you lie down for me?" Hershel asked gently, his hand resting on my shoulder. I nodded and leaned back, the pain worsening instantly.

"Son of a bitch," I hissed.

"Daryl's back," Carl's voice echoed through the cell block.

"Thank god," Maggie whispered in spite of herself. "Relax Harleigh."

"Tryin'," I muttered, forcing myself to take control, forcing myself to ignore the white hot pain. A new wave of pain hit me, causing me to cry out in spite of my best efforts.

"Hershel, somethin's wrong with the baby," I moaned, forcing my eyes shut. Before I could say anything else, I felt my body contract in a way that was so distant but so familiar none the less. Hershel barked orders at Maggie and Beth, who had come as soon as she heard my pained cry. Both girls rushed off to find whatever it was their father had asked for. Moments later, I saw the father of my child at my side, his hand tightly wrapped around mine.

"What happened?" he demanded, glaring at the old vet.

"She's going into labor," he said, his voice strained. I bit back another scream as the pain got to be more than I could handle.

"Get. It. Out!" I screamed, my hand gripping tightly at Daryl's. Daryl looked at me with a panicked, concerned expression. He tried to sooth me but it did nothing for the pain.

Within the hour, I had delivered a seemingly healthy, beautiful little boy. But that was when Hershel realized why I had had complications early on. We weren't just having a baby. We were having babies. I was having twins.

The next several hours went in a haze. I slipped in and out as the pain intensified, until finally, the pain became more than my body could handle. I felt myself slipping farther as the pain turned into nothing but numbness, the urge to push no longer relevant. My mind drifted as exhaustion and general weakness took over, rendering me useless against my body's natural instinct to push. I had no fight left as Hershel demanded for me to push.

"C'mon Leigh, just a little more," Daryl pleaded as he pushed my hair out of my face.

"Can't," I muttered weakly. Even to me, I sounded broken.

"Ya gotta," he said softly. I forced myself to push, one final time. This time, I was stunned to hear the screams of my newborn baby as the pain resided to an ache that only a mother would understand. Pride and relief took over, forcing me to smile up at the only man that ever truly meant anything to me.

"It's a girl," Hershel said with a smile on his face. I beamed at the vet as he handed me my daughter for the first time. I looked down at her tiny, pink face, my eyes welling with tears at how tiny she was.

"She's not gonna make it," I whispered, seeing the way her feet were purple and the sheer tiniest of her body.

"Don't think like that," Hershel said. "She's going to be fine."

"Sure," I said through the tears as I watched my newborn squirm in my arms. I looked up at Daryl, who had tears of joy in his own eyes.

"Welcome to the world, Jo-Anna Beth Dixon," I whispered. Daryl smiled, remembering that that had been our first choice of girls names. "Happy Birthday." Daryl was holding our son and after a few moments, we traded off. Now I had our little boy in my arms. Unlike his sister, he seemed so much stronger, so much healthier.

"Get together for a picture," Glenn said eagerly. He had found a camera a few weeks prior and was eager to take our first family photo. Daryl laid Jo-Anna on my chest, his arms snaking around my shoulders. I smiled brightly, both of our children protectively wrapped in my arms.

Once the picture was taken, I looked down at our son. We'd had a huge toss up over boy names since the very beginning.

"Blake Jagger Dixon," I whispered. Blake had been the name we settled on at one point. It was a strong name. Just like our little boy. Jagger had been my firstborn's name.

Daryl kissed my forehead before taking our daughter into his arms. Seeing him holding the tiny newborn made me feel even safer, even more confident that our little girl would make it. He kissed her forehead gently, his large hands wrapping protectively around her tiny, fragile body.

I felt something I hadn't felt since the day Jagger was born. I felt pride. I felt so much pride, it was unbelievable. Even after the world went to shit, Daryl and I managed to bring not one, but two precious, beautiful babies into the world.

* * *

The wail of a newborn jerked me out of my sleep. I groaned and rolled over, nudging Daryl. It was his turn to get up. By the high pitched cries, I knew it was Jo-Anna who had woken. Unlike her brother, who hardly ever cried, Jo had been crying loudly for several days now, though Hershel and Dr. S could find nothing wrong with her.

"Mmm," he muttered tiredly, rolling over, not fully awake.

I wanted to scold him for getting more sleep than me, but instead, I got up, my hands searching for the lantern. Jo's wails grew more urgent before turning into a rough, wet cough. I flipped the lantern on, earning a troubled look from Daryl who had fully woken at the sound of our newborn coughing.

"Is she okay?" he asked, pulling himself up out of bed.

"I don't know," I said softly, picking the tiny baby up. Even after eight weeks, she was still tiny, far smaller than any baby I had seen before. I shifted her in my arms before gently brushing my hand against her forehead.

"Daryl, go wake Hershel," I said as calmly as I could.

"What's wrong?" he asked, now at my side, his gaze locked on our daughter.

"Go. Wake. Hershel," I whispered.

It didn't take long for Daryl to return with the worried vet, but even in the short time that had passed, it had been too late. I looked up at them, tears streaming down my face. In my arms laid our little girl. Cold and limp, her face twisted in a look of pure torture. I was curled protectively around her, my back pressed tightly to the wall.

Daryl looked like he was going to be sick as he sank to his knees, a tortured look on his face. A tiny moan broke through the silence of the room. I looked down at the infant in my arms, unaware of the fact that she had turned. Her mouth opened and closed in a way so similar to suckling, it seemed almost surreal. Her little hands jerked, her face twisting as her mouth snapped open and closed some more.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't end the child in my arms. Luck have it, I didn't have to. Molasses, who had been watching Jo-Anna with a mother-like stare since the day she was born, had been alerted by the infant's troubled cries before either of us had. She had run off to find someone who _could_ end the child. Molasses had taken on the role as nanny dog since the day the twins had been born, though she seemed to revolve closer to Jo as the weeks passed. While Blake had grown significantly since then, his sister had not.

Without sparing me a second look, Dr. S, a smart, kind man who had recently joined our group, took the baby from my arms and left the room. I didn't need to be lucid to know what came next.

Daryl wrapped his arms around me, tears streaming down his face as he pulled me close, letting my body fall against his as sobs took over. I heard the load wails of our son from the opposite box that served as his crib, but made no move to comfort him. The wails soon ended as someone, probably Beth or Maggie, took the baby from the cell, giving Daryl and I some space.

Together, there on the floor, we mourned the loss of our daughter, a child we never really got to know.

There aren't words to describe what a parent goes through when they lose a child. Not after the first or the second or the third. For me, I felt nothing but remorse and hate and anger. It wasn't like when I lost Alana. She hadn't truly been mine. It wasn't like what Jagger's father tore him from my arms. This was an all-new type of pain. This was the kind of pain that eats away at you, pushes you so far, you're ready to put a bullet in your own head. This was the kind of pain you can't get over. The kind of pain that leaves you begging for mercy, in a world where mercy no longer exists.

* * *

**A/n - Don't hate me! I had to find some way to bring the sickness into the prison, and it seemed logical to make it start with one of the twins. Besides, I didn't want Daryl and Harleigh to have the "perfect little family". It just didn't fit their characters. ;)**

**I promise, there will be light at the end of this dark, twisted tale. Maybe. **


End file.
